CHAPTER VIII.
Murtagh woke next day with a glad feeling that something pleasant was to happen; he sprang out of bed with a shout of—"Hurrah, Bobbo, to-morrow has come, and we'll be all right now!" Careering across the landing, he awoke Rosie and Winnie to remind them of the same fact, and they all rejoiced together, planning what they would say to Theresa's mother, and anticipating how "awfully" pleased she would look when she knew that Theresa wasn't dead, and that the money was all right.
"I'm very glad we met her, after all," reflected Murtagh, as he returned to his own room to put on some garments more suitable to the breakfast table. "Even if the police had got hold of us, it would have been something to have saved her, and this way it's jolly."
They expected to see Mr. Plunkett at ten o'clock. It was his custom to walk through the greenhouses at that hour on Sunday mornings. But alas for their joyful expectations! Ten o'clock struck, and eleven too, and no Mr. Plunkett made his appearance.
Ballyboden fashion was to begin morning service at twelve o'clock, and at half-past eleven the carriage came to the door. Clearly, all hope of seeing Mr. Plunkett before church must be given up, and the mood in which the children started was anything but devotional.
It must be confessed that they were not agreeable companions in church that day.
They meant to be quiet, but they yawned till the tears ran down their cheeks, and not only did they change their position every five minutes, but by a painful fatality they rarely succeeded in effecting the change without administering an unintentional but resounding kick to the woodwork of the old pew. At last came the final prayer, and Winnie went down on her knees with such alacrity that more than one respectable old lady turned her head, and seemed reproachfully to ask an explanation from Nessa. Oh! why are old pews constructed on the principles of a sounding-board?
But it was over; service and sermon had come to an end; and the congregation poured out into the churchyard.
There the children learnt that Mr. Plunkett had been, this morning, unable to leave his bed. "It was likely," said the young doctor, who gave them the news, "that he would be confined to the house for several days."