The gay chirping of the tree-crickets, the crisp morning air, which clearly defined the soft outline of the Blue Mountains in the distance,—all combined, with the fact that he was on horseback once more, to make Mat in the highest spirits, as he and Bell cantered over the high downs.
Not so the latter, who was evidently in deep thought over some perplexing matter, which had caused his usual boisterous spirits to desert him. At length he broke silence with a sudden,—
“Drat it, man, I may as well say it at once, only you are such an independent chap, I do not know how to begin. Fact is, the Governor, and a heap of my mates in town and country, want you and your brother to accept a purse from them to help you to start.”
Mat was certainly startled by this proposition, but answered promptly enough,—
“It’s very good of you all, but we have no wish to accept money until we have worked for it.”
“I knew you would say that, but do take it, Mat, in the spirit in which it is offered. It will hurt their feelings—my feelings—for I have a little hand in it, if you don’t.”
“In that case, squire, I’ll ask you to keep it for us, and if either or both of us come to grief, we will ask you for a little help till times are better.”
“You promise that?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then I’ll hold it in trust for you.”