Then, walking back into the room, he took up another candlestick.
“Let everyone stay as he is till I come back.”
“Do you mean us to stay here, papa—with these people?” said Courtenay haughtily.
Sir Francis stopped short and looked at him sternly without speaking, making the boy blench. Then he turned away without a word, and followed by Mr Solomon bearing a lighted candle, which hardly flickered in the still autumn evening, he went on down the garden.
“Haw—haw—haw!” laughed Ike as soon as we were alone. “You’re a pair o’ nice uns—you are! But you’re ketched this time,” he added.
“How dare you speak to us, sir!” cried Courtenay indignantly. “Hold your tongue, sir!”
“No use to hold it now,” said Ike laughing. “I say, don’t you feel warm?”
“Don’t take any notice of the fellow, Court,” cried Phil; “and as for pauper—”
“You leave him to me,” said Courtenay with a vindictive look. “I’ll make him remember telling his lies of me—yes, and of you too. He shall remember to-night as long as he lives, unless he asks our pardon, as soon as Sir Francis comes back and owns that it was he who was taking the pears.”
I turned away from them and spoke to Ike, who was asking me about my hurts.