II
THE SHERIFF OF NOTTINGHAM
To sit beside a river on a golden afternoon listening to its whisperedmelody, while the air about one is fragrant with summer, and heavy withthe drone of unseen wings!--What ordinary mortal could wish for more?And yet, though conscious of this fair world about me, I was stilluncontent, for my world was incomplete--nay, lacked its most essentialcharm, and I sat with my ears on the stretch, waiting for Lisbeth'schance footstep on the path and the soft whisper of her skirts.
The French are indeed a great people, for among many other things theyalone have caught that magic sound a woman's garments make as shewalks, and given it to the world in the one word "frou-frou."
O wondrous word! O word sublime! How full art thou of delicatesuggestion! Truly, there can be no sweeter sound to ears masculineupon a golden summer afternoon--or any other time, for thatmatter--than the soft "frou-frou" that tells him SHE is coming.
At this point my thoughts were interrupted by something which hurtledthrough the air and splashed into the water at my feet. Glancing atthis object, I recognised the loud-toned cricket cap affected by theImp, and reaching for it, I fished it out on the end of my rod. It wasa hideous thing of red, white, blue, and green--a really horribleaffair, and therefore much prized by its owner, as I knew.
Behind me the bank rose some four or five feet, crowned with willowsand underbrush, from the other side of which there now came aprodigious rustling and panting. Rising to my feet therefore, I partedthe leaves with extreme care, and beheld the Imp himself.
He was armed to the teeth--that is to say, a wooden sword swung at histhigh, a tin bugle depended from his belt, and he carried a bow andarrow. Opposite him was another boy, particularly ragged at knee andelbow, who stood with hands thrust into his pockets and grinned.
"Base caitiff, hold!" cried the Imp, fitting an arrow to the string:"stand an' deliver! Give me my cap, thou varlet, thou!" The boy's grinexpanded.
"Give me my cap, base slave, or I'll shoot you--by my troth!" As hespoke the Imp aimed his arrow, whereupon the boy ducked promptly.
"I ain't got yer cap," he grinned from the shelter of his arm. "It'sbeen an' gone an' throwed itself into the river!" The Imp let fly hisarrow, which was answered by a yell from the Base Varlet.
"Yah!" he cried derisively as the Imp drew his sword with amelodramatic flourish. "Yah! put down that stick an' I'll fight yer."
The Imp indignantly repudiated his trusty weapon being called "astick"--"an' I don't think," he went on, "that Robin Hood ever foughtwithout his sword. Let's see what the book says," and he drew a verycrumpled paper-covered volume from his pocket, which he consulted withknitted brows, while the Base Varlet watched him, open-mouthed.
"Oh, yes," nodded the Imp; "it's all right. Listen to this!" and heread as follows in a stern, deep voice:
"'Then Robin tossed aside his trusty blade, an' laying bare his knottedarm, approached the dastardly ruffian with many a merry quip and jest,prepared for the fierce death-grip.'"
Hereupon the Imp laid aside his book and weapons and proceeded to rollup his sleeve, having done which to his satisfaction, he faced roundupon the Base Varlet.
"Have at ye, dastardly ruffian!" he cried, and therewith ensued abattle, fierce and fell.
If his antagonist had it in height, the Imp made up for it inweight--he is a particularly solid Imp--and thus the struggle lastedfor some five minutes without any appreciable advantage to either,when, in eluding one of the enemy's desperate rushes, the Imp stumbled,lost his balance, and next moment I had caught him in my arms. For aspace "the enemy" remained panting on the bank above, and then withanother yell turned and darted off among the bushes.
"Hallo, Imp!" I said.
"Hallo, Uncle Dick!" he returned.
"Hurt?" I inquired.
"Wounded a bit in the nose, you know," he answered, mopping that organwith his handkerchief; "but did you see me punch 'yon varlet' in theeye?"
"Did you, Imp?"
"I think so, Uncle Dick; only I do wish I'd made him surrender. Thebook says that Robin Hood always made his enemies 'surrender an' begtheir life on trembling knee!' Oh, it must be fine to see your enemieson their knee!"
"Especially if they tremble," I added.
"Do you s'pose that boy--I mean 'yon base varlet' would havesurrendered?"
"Not a doubt of it--if he hadn't happened to push you over the bankfirst."
"Oh!" murmured the Imp rather dubiously.
"By the way," I said as I filled my pipe, "where is your AuntieLisbeth?"
"Well, I chased her up the big apple-tree with my bow an' arrow."
"Of course," I nodded. "Very right and proper!"
"You see," he explained, "I wanted her to be a wild elephant an' shewouldn't."
"Extremely disobliging of her!"
"Yes, wasn't it? So when she was right up I took away the ladder an'hid it."
"Highly strategic, my Imp."
"So then I turned into Robin Hood. I hung my cap on a bush to shootat, you know, an' 'the Base Varlet' came up an' ran off with it."
"And there it is," I said, pointing to where it lay. The Imp receivedit with profuse thanks, and having wrung out the water, clapped it uponhis curls and sat down beside me.
"I found another man who wants to be me uncle," he began.
"Oh, indeed?"
"Yes; but I don't want any more, you know."
"Of course not. One like me suffices for your every-day needs--eh, myImp?"
The Imp nodded. "It was yesterday," he continued. "He came to seeAuntie Lisbeth, an' I found them in the summer-house in the orchard.An' I heard him say, 'Miss Elizbeth, you're prettier than ever!"
"Did he though, confound him!"
"Yes, an then Auntie Lisbeth looked silly, an' then he saw me behind atree an' he looked silly, too, Then he said, 'Come here, little man!'An' I went, you know, though I do hate to be called 'little man.' Thenhe said he'd give me a shilling if I'd call him Uncle Frank."
"And what did you answer?"
"'Fraid I'm awfull' wicked," sighed the Imp, shaking his head, "'causeI told him a great big lie."
"Did you, Imp?"
"Yes. I said I didn't want his shilling, an' I do, you know, mostawfully, to buy a spring pistol with."
"Oh, well, we'll see what can be done about the spring pistol," Ianswered. "And so you don't like him, eh?"
"Should think not," returned the Imp promptly. "He's always so--soawfull' clean, an' wears a little moustache with teeny sharp points onit.
"Any one who does that deserves all he gets," I said, shaking my head."And what is his name?"
"The Honourable Frank Selwyn, an' he lives at Selwyn Park--the nexthouse to ours."
"Oho!" I exclaimed, and whistled.
"Uncle Dick," said the Imp, breaking in upon a somewhat unpleasant trainof thought conjured up by this intelligence, "will you come an' be'Little-John under the merry greenwood tree? Do?"
"Why what do you know about 'the merry greenwood,' Imp?"
"Oh lots!" he answered, hastily pulling out the tattered book. "This isall about Robin Hood an' Little-John. Ben, the gardener's boy, lent itto me. Robin Hood was a fine chap an' so was Little-John an' they usedto set ambushes an' capture the Sheriff of Nottingham an' all sorts ofcaddish barons, an' tie them to trees.
"My Imp," I said, shaking my head, "the times are sadly changed. Onecannot tie barons--caddish or otherwise--to trees in these degeneratedays."
"No, I s'pose not," sighed the Imp dolefully; "but I do wish you wouldbe Little-John, Uncle Dick."
"Oh, certainly, Imp, if it will make you any happier; though of atruth, bold Robin," I continued after the manner of the story books,"Little-John hath a mind to bide awhile and commune with himself here;yet give but one blast upon thy bugle horn and thou shalt find my armand quarter-staff ready and willing enough, I'll warrant you!"
"That sounds awfull' fine, Uncle Dick, only--you haven't got aquarter-staff, you
know."
"Yea, 'tis here!" I answered, and detached the lower joint of myfishing rod. The Imp rose, and folding his arms, surveyed me as RobinHood himself might have done--that is to say, with an 'eye of fire.'
"So be it, my faithful Little-John," quoth he; "meet me at the BlastedOak at midnight. An' if I shout for help--I mean blow my bugle--you'llcome an' rescue me, won't you, Uncle Dick?"
"Ay; trust me for that," I answered, all unsuspecting.
"'Tis well!" nodded the Imp; and with a wave of his hand he turned andscrambling up the bank disappeared. Of the existence of Mr. Selwyn Iwas already aware, having been notified in this particular by theDuchess, as I have told in the foregoing narrative. Now, a rival inair--in the abstract, so to speak--is one thing, but a rival who was ona sufficiently intimate footing to deal in personal compliments, andabove all, one who was already approved of and encouraged by the powersthat be, in the person of Lady Warburton--Lisbeth's formidableaunt--was another consideration altogether.
"Miss Elizabeth, you're prettier than ever!"
Somehow the expression rankled. What right had he to tell her suchthings?--and in a summer-house, too;--the insufferable audacity of thefellow!
A pipe being indispensable to the occasion, I took out my matchbox,only to find that it contained but a solitary vesta.
The afternoon had been hot and still hitherto, with never so much as abreath of wind stirring; but no sooner did I prepare to strike thatmatch than from somewhere--Heaven knows where--there came a sudden flawof wind that ruffled the glassy waters of the river and set every leafwhispering. Waiting until what I took to be a favourable opportunity,with infinite precaution I struck a light. It flickered in a sicklyfashion for a moment between my sheltering palms, and immediatelyexpired.
This is but one example of that "Spirit of the Perverse" pervading allthings mundane, which we poor mortals are called upon to bear as bestwe may. Therefore I tossed aside the charred match, and havingsearched fruitlessly through my pockets for another, waitedphilosophically for some "good Samaritan" to come along. The bank Ihave mentioned sloped away gently on my left, thus affording anuninterrupted view of the path.
Now as my eyes followed this winding path I beheld an individual somedistance away who crawled upon his hands and knees, evidently searchingfor something. As I watched, he succeeded in raking a Panama hat frombeneath a bush, and having dusted it carefully with his handkerchief,replaced it upon his head and continued his advance.
With some faint hope that there might be a loose match hiding away insome corner of my pockets, I went through them again more carefully,but alas! with no better success; whereupon I gave it up and turned toglance at the approaching figure. My astonishment may be readilyimagined when I beheld him in precisely the same attitude asbefore--that is to say, upon his hands and knees.
I was yet puzzling over this phenomenon when he again raked out thePanama on the end of the hunting-crop he carried, dusted it as before,looking about him the while with a bewildered air, and setting itfirmly upon his head, came down the path. He was a tall young fellow,scrupulously neat and well groomed from the polish of his brown ridingboots to his small, sleek moustache, which was parted with elaboratecare and twisted into two fine points. There was about his wholeperson an indefinable air of self-complacent satisfaction, but hecarried his personality in his moustache, so to speak, which, thoughsmall, as I say, and precise to a hair, yet obtruded itself upon one ina vaguely unpleasant way. Noticing all this, I thought I might make avery good guess as to his identity if need were.
All at once, as I watched him--like a bird rising from her nest--thedevoted Panama rose in the air, turned over once or twice and fluttered(I use the word figuratively) into a bramble bush. Bad language waswrit large in every line of his body as he stood looking about him, thehunting-crop quivering in his grasp.
It was at this precise juncture that his eye encountered me, andpausing only to recover his unfortunate headgear, he strode towardwhere I sat, "Do you know anything about this?" he inquired in asomewhat aggressive manner, holding up a length of black thread.
"A piece of ordinary pack-thread," I answered, affecting to examine itwith a critical eye.
"Do you know anything about it?" he said again, evidently in a very badtemper.
"Sir," I answered, "I do not."
"Because if I thought you did--"
"Sir." I broke in, "you'll excuse me, but that seems a very remarkablehat of yours.
"I repeat if I thought you did--"
"Of course," I went on, "each to his taste, but personally I prefer onewith less 'gymnastic' and more 'stay-at-home, qualities."
The hunting-crop was raised threateningly.
"Mr. Selwyn?" I inquired in a conversational tone.
The hunting-crop hesitated and was lowered.
"Well, sir?"
"Ah, I thought so," I said, bowing; "permit me to trespass upon yourgenerosity to the extent of a match--or, say, a couple."
Mr. Selwyn remained staring down at me for a moment, and I saw thepoints of his moustache positively curling with indignation. Then,without deigning a reply, he turned on his heel and strode away. He hadnot gone more than thirty or forty paces, however, when I heard himstop and swear savagely--I did not need to look to learn the reason--Iadmit I chuckled. But my merriment was short-lived, for a moment latercame the feeble squeak of a horn followed by a shout and the Imp'svoice upraised in dire distress.
"Little-John! Little-John! to the rescue!" it called.
I hesitated, for I will freely confess that when I had made thatpromise to the Imp it was with small expectation that I should becalled upon to fulfil it. Still, a promise is a promise: so I sighed,and picking up the joint of my fishing rod, clambered up the bank.Glancing in the direction of the cries, I beheld Robin Hood strugglingin the foe's indignant grasp.
Now, there were but two methods of procedure open to me as I couldsee--the serious or the frankly grotesque. Naturally I chose thelatter, and quarter-staff on shoulder, I swaggered down the path withan air that Little-John himself might well have envied.
"Beshrew me!" I cried, confronting the amazed Mr. Selwyn, "who dareslay hands on bold Robin Hood?--away, base rogue, hie thee hence or I amlike to fetch thee a dour ding on that pate o' thine!"
Mr. Selwyn loosed the Imp and stared at me in speechless astonishment,as well he might.
"Look ye, master," I continued, entering into the spirit of the thing,"no man lays hand on Robin Hood whiles Little-John can twirl a staff ordraw a bow-string--no, by St. Cuthbert!"
The Imp, retired to a safe distance, stood hearkening in a transporttill, bethinking him of his part, he fished out the tattered book andbegan surreptitiously turning over the pages; as for Mr. Selwyn, heonly fumbled at his moustache and stared.
"Aye, but I know thee," I went on again, "by thy sly and crafty look,by thy scallopped cape and chain of office, I know thee for that sameSheriff of Nottingham that hath sworn to our undoing. Go to! didst'think to take Robin--in the greenwood? Out upon thee! Thy years shouldhave taught thee better wisdom. Out upon thee!"
"Now will I feed"--began the Imp, with the book carefully held behindhim, "now will I feed fat mine vengeance--to thy knees for a scurvyrascal!"
"Aye, by St. Benedict!" I nodded, "twere well he should do penance onhis marrow-bones from hither to Nottingham Town; but as thou artstrong--be merciful, Robin."
Mr. Selwyn still curled the point of his moustache.
"Are you mad," he inquired, "or only drunk?"
"As to that, good master Sheriff, it doth concern thee nothing--butmark you! 'tis an ill thing to venture within the greenwood whilesRobin Hood and Little-John he abroad."
Mr. Selwyn shrugged his shoulders and turned to the Imp.
"I am on my way to see your Aunt Elizabeth, and shall make it myparticular care to inform her of your conduct, and to see that you areproperly punished. As for you, sir," he continued, addressing me, "Ishall inform the police that there is a ma
dman at large."
At this double-barrelled threat the Imp was plainly much dismayed, andcoming up beside me, slipped his hand into mine, and I promptlypocketed it.
"Sweet master Sheriff," I said, sweeping off my cap in true outlawfashion, "the way is long and something lonely; methinks--we willtherefore e'en accompany you, and may perchance lighten the tedium withquip and quirk and a merry stave or so."
Seeing the angry rejoinder upon Mr. Selwyn's lips, I burst forthincontinent into the following ditty, the words extemporised to thetune of "Bonnie Dundee":
There lived a sheriff in Nottinghamshire, With a hey derry down and a down; He was fond of good beef, but was fonder of beer, With a hey derry down and a down
By the time we reached the Shrubbery gate the imp was in an ecstasy andMr. Selwyn once more reduced to speechless indignation andastonishment. Here our ways diverged, Mr. Selwyn turning toward thehouse, while the Imp and I made our way to the orchard at the rear.
"Uncle Dick," he said, halting suddenly, "do you think he willtell--really?"
"My dear Imp," I answered, "a man who wears points on his moustache iscapable of anything."
"Then I shall be sent to bed for it, I know I shall!"
"To run into a thread tied across the path must have been veryannoying," I said, shaking my head thoughtfully, "especially with abrand-new hat!"
"They were only 'ambushes,' you know, Uncle Dick."
"To be sure," I nodded. "Now, observe, my Imp, here is a shilling; goand buy that spring-pistol you were speaking of, and take your timeabout it; I'll see what can be done in the meanwhile."
The Imp was reduced to incoherent thanks.
"That's all right." I said, "but you'd better hurry off."
He obeyed with alacrity, disappearing in the direction of the village,while I went on toward the orchard to find Lisbeth. And presently,sure enough, I did find her--that is to say, part of her, for thefoliage of that particular tree happened to be very thick and I couldsee nothing of her but a foot.
A positively delicious foot it was, too, small and shapely, that swungaudaciously to and fro; a foot in a ridiculously out-of-place littlepatent-leather shoe, with a sheen of slender silken ankle above.
I approached softly, with the soul of me in my eyes, so to speak, yet,despite my caution, she seemed to become aware of my presence in someway--the foot faltered in its swing and vanished as the leaves wereparted and Lisbeth looked down at me.
"Oh, it's you?" she said, and I fancied she seemed quite pleased."You'll find a step-ladder somewhere about--it can't be very far."
"Thanks," I answered, "but I don't want one."
"No; but I do; I want to get down. That little wretched Imp hid theladder, and I've been here all the afternoon," she wailed.
"But then you refused to be an elephant, you know," I reminded her.
"He shall go to bed for it--directly after tea!" she said.
"Lisbeth," I returned, "I firmly believe your nature to be altogethertoo sweet and forgiving--"
"I want to come down!"
"Certainly," I said; "put your left foot in my right hand, take firmhold of the branch above and let yourself sink gently into my arms."
"Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, "here's Mr. Selwyn coming," and followingher glance, I saw a distant Panama approaching.
"Lisbeth," said I, "are you anxious to see him?"
"In this ridiculous situation--of course not!"
"Very well then, hide--just sit there and leave matters to me and--"
"Hush," she whispered, and at that moment Selwyn emerged into fullview. Catching sight of me he stopped in evident surprise.
"I was told I should find Miss Elizabeth here," he said stiffly.
"It would almost appear that you had been misinformed," I answered. Fora moment he seemed undecided what to do. Would he go away? Iwondered. Evidently not, for after glancing about him he sat himselfdown upon a rustic seat near-by with a certain resolute air that I didnot like. I must get rid of him at all hazards.
"Sir," said I, "can I trespass on your generosity to the extent of amatch or say a couple?" After a brief hesitation he drew out a veryneat silver match-box, which he handed to me.
"A fine day, sir?" I said, puffing at my pipe.
Mr. Selwyn made no reply.
"I hear that the crops are looking particularly healthy this year," Iwent on.
Mr. Selwyn appeared to be utterly lost in the contemplation of anadjacent tree.
"To my mind an old apple tree is singularly picturesque," I beganagain, "nice nobbly branches, don't you know."
Mr. Selwyn began to fidget.
"And then," I pursued, "they tell me that apples are so good for theblood."
Mr. Selwyn shifted his gaze to the toe of his riding boot, and for aspace there was silence, so much so, indeed, that an inquisitive rabbitcrept up and sat down to watch us with much interest, until--evidentlyremembering some pressing engagement--he disappeared with a flash ofhis white tail.
"Talking of rabbits," said I, "they are quite a pest in Australia, Ibelieve, and are exterminated by the thousand; I have often wondered ifa syndicate could not be formed to acquire the skins--this idea, so faras I know, is original, but you are quite welcome to it if--"
Mr. Selwyn rose abruptly to his feet.
"I once in my boyhood possessed a rabbit--of the lop-eared variety," Icontinued, "which overate itself and died. I remember I attempted toskin it with dire results--"
"Sir." said Mr. Selwyn. "I beg to inform you that I am not interestedin rabbits, lop-eared or otherwise, nor do I propose to become so;furthermore--"
But at this moment of my triumph, even as he turned to depart,something small and white fluttered down from the branches above, andthe next moment Selwyn had stooped and picked up a lace handkerchief.Then, while he stared at it and I at him, there came a ripple oflaughter and Lisbeth peered down at us through the leaves.
"My handkerchief-thank you," she said, as Selwyn stood somewhat takenaback by her sudden appearance.
"The trees hereabouts certainly bear very remarkable, not to saydelightful fruit," he said.
"And as you will remember, I was always particularly fond of appletrees," I interpolated.
"Mr. Selwyn," smiled Lisbeth, "let me introduce you to Mr. Brent."
"Sir," said I, "I am delighted to make your acquaintance; have heardHer Grace of Chelsea speak of you--her friends are mine, I trust?"
Mr. Selwyn's bow was rather more than distant.
"I have already had the pleasure of meeting this--this very originalgentleman before, and under rather peculiar circumstances, MissElizabeth," he said, and forthwith plunged into an account of the wholeaffair of the "ambushes," while Lisbeth, perched upon her lofty throne,surveyed us with an ever-growing astonishment.
"Whatever does it all mean?" she inquired as Mr. Selwyn made an end.
"You must know, then," I explained, leaning upon my quarter-staff, "theImp took it into his head to become Robin Hood; I was Little-John, andMr. Selwyn here was so very obliging as to enact the role of Sheriffof Nottingham--"
"I beg your pardon," exclaimed Mr. Selwyn indignantly, turning upon mewith a fiery eye.
"Every one recollects the immortal exploits of Robin and his 'merriemen,'" I continued, "and you will, of course, remember that they had ahabit of capturing the sheriff and tying him up to trees and things.Naturally the Imp did not proceed to that extreme. He contentedhimself with merely capturing the Sheriff's hat--I think that you willagree that those 'ambushes' worked like a charm, Mr. Selwyn?"
"Miss Elizabeth," he said, disdaining any reply, "I am aware of theaf--affection you lavish upon your nephew; I hope that you will takemeasures to restrain him from such pranks--such very disgracefulpranks--in the future. I myself should suggest a change ofcompanionship [here he glanced at me] as the most salutary method.Good-afternoon, Miss Elizabeth." So saying, Mr. Selwyn raised his hat,bowed stiffly to me, and turning upon an indignant heel, strodehaughtily aw
ay.
"Well!" exclaimed Lisbeth, with a look of very real concern.
"Very well, indeed!" I nodded; "we are alone at last."
"Oh, Dick! but to have offended him like this!"
"A highly estimable young gentleman," I said, "though deplorablylacking in that saving sense of humour which--"
"Aunt Agatha seems to think a great deal of him."
"So I understand," I nodded.
"Only this morning I received a letter from her, in which, among otherthings, she pointed out what a very excellent match he would be."
"And what do you think?"
"Oh, I agree with her, of course; his family dates back ages and agesbefore the Conqueror, and he has two or three estates besides SelwynPark, and one in Scotland."
"Do you know, Lisbeth, that reminds me of another house--not at all bigor splendid, but of great age; a house which stands not far from thevillage of Down, in Kent; a house which is going to rack and ruin forwant of a mistress. Sometimes, just as evening comes on, I think itmust dream of the light feet and gentle hands it has known so manyyears ago, and feels its loneliness more than ever."
"Poor old house!" said Lisbeth softly.
"Yes, a house is very human, Lisbeth, especially an old one, and feelsthe need of that loving care which only a woman can bestow, just as wedo ourselves."
"Dear old house!" said Lisbeth, more softly than before.
"How much longer must it wait--when will you come and care for it,Lisbeth?"
She started, and I thought her cheeks seemed a trifle pinker than usualas her eyes met mine.
"Dick," she said wistfully, "I do wish you would get the ladder; it'shorribly uncomfortable to sit in a tree for hours and--"
"First of all, Lisbeth, you will forgive the Imp--full and freely,won't you?"
"He shall go to bed without any tea whatever."
"That will be rank cruelty, Lisbeth; remember he is a growing boy."
"And I have been perched up here--between heaven and earth--all theafternoon."
"Then why not come down?" I inquired.
"If you will only get the ladder--"
"If you will just put your right foot in my--"
"I won't!" said Lisbeth.
"As you please," I nodded, and sitting down, mechanically took out mypipe and began to fill it, while she opened her book, frowning. Andafter she had read very studiously for perhaps two minutes, she drewout and consulted her watch. I did the same.
"A quarter to five!" I said.
Lisbeth glanced down at me with the air of one who is deliberating upontwo courses of action, and when at length she spoke, every trace ofirritation had vanished completely.
"Dick, I'm awfully hungry."
"So am I," I nodded.
"It would be nice to have tea here under the trees, wouldn't it?"
"It would be positively idyllic!" I said.
"Then if you will please find that ladder--"
"If you will promise to forgive the Imp--"
"Certainly not!" she retorted.
"So be it!" I sighed, and sat down again. As I did so she launched herbook at me.
"Beast!" she exclaimed.
"Which means that you are ready to descend?" I inquired, rising anddepositing the maltreated volume side by side with my pipe on a rustictable near-by; "very good. Place your right foot in--"
"Oh, all right," she said quite pettishly, and next moment I had her inmy arms.
"Dick! put me down-at once!"
"One moment, Lisbeth; that boy is a growing boy--"
"And shall go to bed without any tea!" she broke in.
"Very well, then," I said, and reading the purpose in my eyes, sheattempted, quite vainly, to turn her head aside.
"You will find it quite useless to struggle, Lisbeth," I warned. "Youronly course is to remember that he is a growing boy."
"And you are a brute!" she cried.
"Undoubtedly," I answered, bending my head nearer her petulant lips.
"But think of the Imp in bed, lying there, sleepless, tealess, andgrowing all the while as fast as he can."
Lisbeth surrendered, of course, but my triumph was greatly temperedwith disappointment.
"You will then forgive him for the 'ambushes' and cherish him with muchtea?" I stipulated, winking away a tress of hair that tickled mostprovokingly.
"Yes," said Lisbeth.
"And no bed until the usual hour?"
"No," she answered, quite subdued; "and now please do put me down." SoI sighed and perforce obeyed.
She stood for a moment patting her rebellious hair into order withdeft, white fingers, looking up at me meanwhile with a laugh in hereyes that seemed almost a challenge. I took a hasty step toward her,but as I did so the Imp hove into view, and the opportunity was lost.
"Hallo, Auntie Lisbeth!" he exclaimed, eyeing her wonderingly; then hisglance wandered round as if in quest of something.
"How did she do it, Uncle Dick?" he inquired.
"Do what, my Imp?"
"Why, get out of the tree?" I smiled and looked at Lisbeth.
"Did she climb down?"
"No," said I, shaking my head.
"Did she--jump down?"
"No, she didn't jump down, my Imp."
"Well, did she--did she fly down?"
"No, nor fly down--she just came down."
"Yes, but how did she--"
"Reginald," said Lisbeth, "run and tell the maids to bring tea outhere--for three."
"Three?" echoed the Imp. "But Dorothy has gone out to tea, youknow--is Uncle Dick going to--"
"To be sure, Imp," I nodded.
"Oh, that is fine--hurrah, Little-John!" he cried, and darted off toward the house.
"And you, Lisbeth?" I said, imprisoning her hands, "are you glad also?"
Lisbeth did not speak, yet I was satisfied nevertheless.