"It may not be lost and found a second time."
"True, it may not," said the old gray-beard, "if, as he meant to do, he has killed the finder."
Mr. Hirpington started and turned pale.
"He has not killed the finder," said Marileha, rising with the dignity of a princess; and taking Edwin by the hand, she led him up to Mr. Hirpington. The "Thank God" which trembled on his lips was deep as low. But aloud he shouted, "Dunter, Dunter! here is your bird flown back to his cage. Chain him, collar him, keep him this time, if you brick him in."
Dunter's hand was on the boy's shoulder in a moment. Edwin held out his to Nga-Hepé, who took the curling feathers from his own head-dress to stick them in Edwin's hair. The boy was stroking the kaka's crimson breast. He lifted up his face and shot back the smile of triumph in Whero's eyes, as Dunter hauled him away, exclaiming, "Now I've got you, see if I don't keep you!"
CHAPTER XXI.
THE VALLEY FARM.
Edwin laughed a merry laugh as Mr. Hirpington and his man led him away between them. A ladder had been found in the pulling down of the stables. It greatly assisted the descent into the "dungeonized" kitchen, as Edwin called it. But within, everything was as dirty and comfortless as before.
"They laugh who win," he whispered, undoing a single button of his jacket, and displaying a corner of the wash-leather belt. "Where is father?" he asked, looking eagerly along the row of open doors, and singling out his recent cage as the most comfortable of the little dormitories. A glance told him it was not without an inhabitant. But it was Hal's voice which answered from the midst of the blankets, in tones of intense self-congratulation, "I'm in bed, lad. Think o' that. Really abed."
"And mind you keep there," retorted Edwin, looking back to Mr. Hirpington for a guiding word, as he repeated impatiently, "Where's father? Has he seen the captain?"