“A nice day to you my boy. Take care of yourself; but don’t go climbing about the rocks after sea-gulls’ eggs, or you’ll be getting into danger.”
The pony had started before his words were all spoken, so that he could not see the sudden cloud that fell upon Bertie’s face. The little boy drove through the park with a keen sense of disappointment weighing upon him. What had put it into the Squire’s head to utter that prohibition just at the last? Did he really mean what he said, or was it only spoken in jest?
Bertie had half a mind to turn back and plead for a reversal of the verdict; but he resisted the temptation, and drove on in silence. He was afraid, for one thing, of betraying the secret entrusted to him by his companions; and, for another, he had not lived for a year beneath the Squire’s roof without learning that, however kind and considerate he might be, his will was law to all about him, and that he never gave an order, however trifling, without some good reason, and always expected that order to be strictly carried out.
So Bertie knew that there would be no climbing that day for him, and he was keenly disappointed; for he was sure that Queenie would accuse him of cowardice, and he was well aware that he had acquired, by practice in trees and crumbling walls, and about the roof of the old Manor House, a skill and agility in climbing with which he had quite hoped to take his companions by storm.
However, there was nothing for it now but to obey,—for, to do the child justice, he never dreamed of disobedience,—and it was with a heart a good deal less light than he had expected that he joined his companions at the place they had agreed upon.
Phil had a good big basket with him, which was transferred to the cart, and the little cavalcade set forwards. Conversation was not altogether easy between the riders and driver, so Bertie’s silence passed unnoticed; but the faithful David felt certain his little master was cast down about something, and, making a shrewd guess, he whispered,—
“Don’t ’ee be sad about it, Master Bertie; I’ll get thee the best eggs as can be had in the bay. I know where them birds build, I do, and I’ll see thee has all thee wants. I’ll get thee a pair of young uns too, if so be as they’re hatched and fledged; but we’re full early for birds yet.”
“Yes, but Phil has to go back to school so soon that we had to come to-day. Don’t you get into any danger, David. I don’t care about the eggs—at least not so very much.”
“Bless thy heart! ’tis nothing to me. I’ve been born and bred to it all my life long.”
By the time the little party had reached the bay, the sun was riding high in the sky, and the children were hungry and thirsty as well as hot.