Captain Miles.
Fred’s way across the fields to the Manor was among sweet autumn scents, and with moth and bird taking his attention at almost every step.
The white owl was out, with its peculiar grating cry; so was the tawny owl, breaking forth into its loud hail—hoi-hoi-hoi! Skimming about the oak-trees he saw the nightjars again, every swoop meaning death to some unfortunate moth or beetle.
But all these objects were too familiar to call for more than a passing glance as the boy hurried on. Down in the hollows the mists were gathering and floating a little way above the ground, as if there were a fire near, while far away in the east a bright planet burned like silver opposite to the warm glow left in the west.
“Hurrah! there we are,” cried Fred, as he topped the last hill, and looked down at the lights which showed where home lay; and he was not long in getting over the ground, almost quicker than he was satisfied with, for he was making his plans for the next morning respecting the discovery of the entrance to the passage.
For the whole of the incidents in connection with the secret chamber had thoroughly excited him, and he felt as if he could not rest till he had found out everything about the place.
To his great surprise, as he entered the house, he found that supper was not begun.
“Been waiting for me, mother?” he cried to the calm, sweet-faced lady seated working by the light of rather a dim candle.
“No, Fred,” she said, smiling gravely, as she drew him down and kissed his brow.
“Because I had mine with Scar. Where’s father?”