"He says that he remembered your grandfather telling some one that there was a false bottom in the oak chest which made a splendid hiding-place. He had tried several times to get it open, but he had never succeeded. The last time he tried was on that evening when he heard from old Jane that we had gone to Colchester. When he opened the lid of the chest he found Harold inside quite unconscious and almost suffocated. Of course, he knew the ways of the house; so he carried him to the coachman's room, where he stayed with him till the gong sounded for prayers."
"Then they were his footmarks we saw in the mud," cried Rupert. "What a joke. Don't you tell him I said they were nineteens. What is he like? Is he very cross?"
"Here he comes, so you can judge for yourselves," said mother, opening the door to admit our new-found uncle, who turned out to be just as jolly as any boys could wish.
* * * * *
Years passed by. Uncle Joe, by means of the will, which was hidden in the oak chest, came into possession of a beautiful little estate in Normandy, where we all spent many happy days with our French cousins, for he had married a Frenchwoman. I say we, because, thanks to my cousins' good influence on mind and body, I became as strong as any one could expect, and was able to enjoy school life in a quiet way, though never fit for rough games, and always rather sensitive about the slight hump on my back.
Never shall I forget my grief when those first holidays were over, and father and mother and I stood at the door to wave our farewells.
"God bless you, children," said father; "you've done us all good."
"Then you don't wish the savages had never come, uncle," shouted Jack, with a merry smile.
"No, no, no!" replied father; and then the carriage went out of sight, though the sounds of the Australian "cooee" reached us for some minutes afterwards.
THE END.