"You made a good shot at the dingo, old man," he said. "It won't be long before you are out shooting with me, at this rate."
Of course no one could laugh at Eustace after that. Bob saw nothing funny about what he had done—Bob actually praised him—and when Bob praised it meant something.
"I say," Nesta asked when the twins were alone together, "weren't you most awfully scared?"
"Well, I guess I was rather," Eustace admitted; "but of course it was silly to be. Mother thinks it was only one of the plantation hands now, and not a black-fellow at all, you see."
"But a plantation hand might have knifed somebody," Nesta said, with a shudder. "I hope he won't come again. I know I should scream like anything."
"I believe it would be the worst thing you could do," Eustace said gravely. "He would be sure to try and shut you up if you made a row—any thief would, if he wasn't such a coward as that one. But I wouldn't think about it if I were you, or you'll be fancying things, just as I did."
In spite of which advice Nesta did suffer a few qualms at night, if she happened to wake in the dark; but sleeping with her mother was comforting, and the panics never lasted long.
Lessons began again, and the days passed in their usual routine, but with the added joy of something to look forward to in the arrival of the new aunt.
It was a nightly annoyance to Peter that he was put to bed at the same time as Sandy Robertson, while the twins stayed up to late dinner. Becky went to bed still earlier, and was generally fast asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow.
"You might shoot pistols in the room after Becky is asleep," was a favourite saying, "and you wouldn't wake her."