Chapter Two.
Aunt Deb’s lecture, and what came of it—My desire to go to sea still further increases—My father, to satisfy me, visits Leighton Hall—Our interview with Sir Reginald Knowsley—Some description of Leighton Hall and what we saw there—The magistrate’s room—A smuggler in trouble—The evidence against him, and its worth—An ingenious plea—An awkward witness—The prisoner receives the benefit of the doubt—Sir Reginald consults my father, and my father consults Sir Reginald—My expectations stand a fair chance of being realised—The proposed crusade against the smugglers—My father decides on taking an active part in it—I resolve to second him.
On reaching home, the first person I encountered was Aunt Deb.
“Where have you been, Master Dick?” she exclaimed, in a stern tone, “you’ve frightened your poor father and mother out of their wits. They have been fancying that you must have met with some accident, or run off to sea.”
“I have been fishing, aunt,” I answered, exhibiting the contents of my basket, “this shows that I am speaking the truth, though you look as if you doubted my word.”
“Ned said you had gone out fishing, but that you promised to be back for breakfast,” she replied, “it has been over half an hour or more, and the things have been cleared away, so you must be content with a mug of milk and a piece of bread. The teapot was emptied, and we can’t be brewing any more for you.”
“Thank you, aunt. I must, as you say, be content with the mug of milk and piece of bread you offer me,” I said, with a demure countenance, glad to escape any questioning. “I shall have a better appetite for dinner, when I hope you will allow these fish to be cooked, and I fancy that you will find them very good, I have seldom caught finer.”
“Well, well, go in and get off your dirty shoes, you look as if you had been wading into the pond, and remember to be home in good time another day. While I manage the household, I must have regularity; the want of it throws everybody out, though your father and mother do not seem to care about the matter.”
Glad to escape so easily, I hurried away. My father had gone out to visit a sick person who had sent for him. My brothers and sisters were engaged in their various studies and occupations, and my mother was still in her room. Jane, the maid, by Aunt Deb’s directions, brought me the promised mug of milk and piece of bread, and I, without complaint, ate a small piece of the one, and drank up the contents of the other, and then said I had had enough, and could manage to go on until dinner-time. It did not strike me at the time that I was guilty of any deception, though I really was; but I was afraid if I mentioned my visit to Roger Riddle’s cottage, the rest of my adventures in the morning would come out, and so said nothing about the matter.