Mrs. Dingle was answering that she would be delighted, when there was the sound of a loud report at no great distance, and Billy sprang to his feet with a terrified shriek.
"Oh! Oh!" he gasped, horror-stricken; "it's a bomb!—it's a bomb!"
"No, no, no!" Tom Turpin assured him, "nothing of the kind! It's blasting—that is, blowing up rock with dynamite—at the stone quarry. Don't be frightened! Really, there's nothing to be alarmed at. You won't hear the noise, this afternoon, again."
Billy sank into his chair. He was white to the lips, and shaking. The elders of the party looked at him with sympathy and much concern. May's eyes expressed only wonderment, but Harold's sparkled with amusement and scorn.
"The stone quarry's only a couple of miles away, so you'll get accustomed to the sound of blasting," Tom Turpin continued, "and you'll not be scared another time, for you'll know what the sound means."
"Yes—oh, yes!" murmured Billy. He was ashamed of the terror he had felt and exhibited. Everyone would consider him such a coward. His lips quivered, whilst tears rose to his eyes.
"Did you think the Germans were coming?" asked Harold, with a wide grin.
"I thought a German airship might be dropping bombs," admitted Billy. "I—I'm ashamed of myself."
"You've no call to be that!" Mrs. Dingle told him. "It's no wonder you're nervy, I'm sure. There, you're all right now, aren't you? Have another cup of tea, won't you? It'll do you good."
Billy shook his head. It was with difficulty he kept from crying. He sat in miserable silence whilst Tom Turpin talked with the others and took his tea, and, when the young soldier left, his voice was unsteady as he said "good-bye" to him. He was sure Tom must despise him for having shown such fear.