“You are a strange young gentleman, Master Shirley,” replied Dan; “but your secret shall remain safe for me, though, if I was in your place, I think I should act differently:” and, stifling a laugh, he tossed the money into his pocket.
He yet held the gate in his hand, when little Rachel, quite out of breath, came running towards them.
“Oh, Josiah! my rabbits! my nice white rabbits; they are lost, they are all gone!” said she, weeping bitterly. “Come, dry your tears, my little cousin,” said Josiah, kindly taking her hand, and striving to comfort her; “they cannot be far off, for I am sure they were all safe last night.”
“Little Miss, I think I know where your rabbits are,” said Dan Simpson.
“Indeed!” exclaimed Josiah; “who could be so mean as to rob this little girl?”
“Only the neighbour who broke your trees,” replied Dan; “for, as I passed by Lary’s cottage, his little boy was playing with some fine tame rabbits. They had none yesterday, unless Pat bought them at the fair; and I dare say he will tell you so.”
Now Josiah could not help feeling convinced that they must be Rachel’s rabbits; and he said—
“Daniel Simpson, I thank thee for this piece of intelligence, and will step across to Lary’s cottage, and learn the truth of these things; so good day for the present.”
Simpson returned to his daily avocations, well pleased at his ingenuity; and, relating his conference with Josiah to George Hope, they both enjoyed a hearty laugh at the idea of having deceived the Quaker.
“He is gone now, Master George,” said Simpson, “to cross-question Lary about the hatchet; but the foolish fellow is still so bewildered with drink, that he will never be able to give a correct account of himself; now I am sure young Shirley already suspects him, and suspicious thoughts travel fast, when they once get into the head: for the love of fun, how I should like to hear their conference.”