“I am sure I forgive them all, now you have once said that,” cried Oliver. “I forgive and forget them all: and so would father, if he heard you.”
“No! Would he? And he said once that he and his would scorn to be like me and mine.”
“Did you hear him say that? You used to hear every word we said to one another, I think.”
“It was Ailwin that threw that in my teeth.”
“Father would not say so now: never after you had had Geordie on your knees and made him fond of you, as you did.”
“Do you really think so?”
“I am almost sure of it. But he could not help thinking badly of you if you keep that money.”
“I am not going to keep it. Do you go and find it, if you like, for I can’t. It is in a hollow elm that stands between two beeches, on the other side of the wood. There is a little cross cut in the bark, on the south side—that will help you to find it. But don’t you go till you have got me to the tent.”
Oliver helped him home, amidst lightning and splashing rain, explaining as they went why the tent was down, but thinking it best to say nothing of the boat to one so weak-spirited as Roger was now. He then ran off, and found the money-bag. He wished the weather would clear, that he might look out again: but, meanwhile, he felt that he was not losing time in collecting together all the goods that were on the hill; for the tempest so darkened and filled the air, that he knew he could not have seen a furlong into the distance, if he had been on his perch at this moment. He wore his mother’s watch in his pocket, feeling as if it promised that he should meet her again, to put it back into her hands.
“Now, Oliver,” said Ailwin, “I am vexed with you that you did not sleep while you might, before this growling, splashing weather came on, and while there was something of a shelter over your head. If you don’t go to sleep the minute this tempest is over, I must see what I must do to you: for you will be having the fever else; and then what is to become of me, among you all, I should like to know? I wish you would creep in now between the mattresses under the tree, and never think of the storm, but go to sleep like a good boy. It is hardly likely that the lightning should strike that particular tree, just while you are under it.”