"We can't stay though," said Sigismund. "Turn back with us."
So Dick turned back.
"We're off to the Manor Farm," explained Will. And he went on to give the details of the theft, and how suspicion had come to rest upon the boy whom Mr. Grantley had put in his sketch of the church, but whose name was of course unknown to him. "We're going to identify him by the sketch," added he.
"Mr. Grantley leaves his easel at the farm," put in Sigismund. "I think it's splendid fun. It's exactly like a real police case, isn't it?"
Dick's face had become nearly as serious as Hal's at this intelligence. If the theft should be brought home to Bill, his own share in the affair was certain to come out, and then it would be all up with his pleasant footing at the Manor House.
"Whoever it was, pretty nearly killed the goose," added Will.
And between them, they narrated the events of the preceding evening, and how the Grig family had feasted on the poor goose's remains.
This was getting hotter and hotter for Dick. At length, he grew so uncomfortable that on reaching the gate of the farm, he said he would go no farther and in spite of all their pressing that he should wait outside and see the picture when Mr. Grantley brought it out, he turned, and left them to go in alone.
They had no sooner knocked at the kitchen door, however, than Dick changed his mind, and followed on towards the cottages beyond the farm. If Bill were anywhere about, he might give him a hint to keep out of the way a bit, until the storm blew over.
Dick's chief motive in this design was to avoid getting his character blackened in the Squire's eyes by association with Bill. He overlooked the more important consideration that he who meddles with mire is blackened, whether other people know it or not; and that there is One, before whose piercing gaze no hiding can avail, since He "looketh on the heart."