"So we shall dine here, then," said Rupert, with a look at Jack1, who had fixed2 himself in an armchair in a most determined3 attitude; "unless you prefer going up to the tower-room."
"Never again," said Jack, gravely; "uncle says we've done him good, and when he comes back I mean to ask for our reward. 'Tis a very good den4 that we live in, to laugh, or to talk, or to play in; but to hide or to think, or to be quite alone, 'tis the very worst den that ever was known."
"Bravo, Jack! poor old Hudibras wouldn't know his own lines if he were here. Give us some more of that sort of thing to make the time pass till uncle comes home. I'm just burning with curiosity."
A glass of cold water down his back, under pretence5 of extinguishing him, ended in the aggressor being put out himself.
It seemed a long day in spite of all the fun we managed to get in one way or another; but "be the day weary, be the day long, at length it ringeth to evensong," and about seven o'clock we heard the horse's feet in the yard, and my parents came in alone. Even then we had, of course, to wait a short time before they were ready to tell us what we were longing6 to hear.
"Now I'll tell you all about the mysterious stranger," said father, at last. "But I am tired, and you must not interrupt me. You will have plenty of time to ask questions another day. It is just fifteen years since my half-brother Joe was in this room. His mother died when he was about three years old, and at her request your grandfather sent the little fellow over to Normandy to be brought up by his mother's brother. This brother was a very rich man, and when my father married again he offered to adopt Joe, bring him up as his own son, and leave him all he possessed7, if my father would consent. He would not, however, do this, and insisted on Joe returning home at once, so one of my first recollections is being carried about by my big brother Joe. As I got older I used to spend most of my days in the tower-room, where Joe was always busy with some carpentering, or work of one kind or another. Your grandfather was a severe man, very harsh in his management of children, and Joe often resented what he considered his unkindness. That oak chest, which was nearly the cause of your death the other night, Harold, was the cause of our separation. One day the French count came to stay with our father, and Joe, who was really very fond of him, owing to having spent his early years with him, wanted to go back with him; but our father would not consent. Joe tells me now that he distinctly heard the Frenchman say, 'Well, I've made my will in his favour, and I shall leave it with you. I've made you executor, and when I am dead you will let the boy come over to Normandy. It's a pity you won't let him go back with me, for there are people who would like to oust8 him out of his property if they could.'
"Years passed away, and one day, when Joe had been imprisoned9 in the tower-room for some naughtiness, he ran away, climbing down by those very steps that he climbed up yesterday, and which he had made when quite a youngster, to be able to get in or out of his play-room as he liked. I said your grandfather was a harsh man; and when he heard of Joe's flight, he knew of course he had gone to Normandy, and he made a solemn vow10 that Joe should never enter the house again. I was about twelve then, and old enough to see that, however harsh my father might be, he really loved his elder son. He was never the same again, and one morning we found him struck by paralysis11. He recovered consciousness before he died, and seemed anxious to tell us something, but he could neither write nor speak distinctly, though I fancy he wanted to say something about Joe. My mother and I lived alone here, writing occasionally to Normandy, but never expecting to see Joe again. One day, fifteen years ago, I was sitting writing, when a servant came to say that a stranger had called, and had pushed past her, saying he wanted to go to the tower-room. Running upstairs quickly, I found your Uncle Joe kneeling at the oak chest, which stood open. I was angry at his impertinence, and seizing him by the collar as he knelt, I shook him violently and reproached him with killing12 our father, and then coming into the house in that fashion. He was pale with anger; but he is a noble character, in spite of all his faults. He remembered that we were brothers, and would not strike me. 'I came to see if I could find the Count D'Arcy's will,' he said; 'a cousin of his claims the estate, and I have nothing to prove that he made me his heir. I know the Count gave it to our father.' 'And I know that our father forbade you to enter the house while he was alive. I shall not allow it now he is dead. Go!' I replied, pointing to the door. He went, and I have never seen him till to-day."
"What has he been doing all these years?" I asked, unable to restrain my curiosity any longer.
"He has been working hard and making a name for himself at Rouen, while the Count's cousin has been squandering13 the estate. From time to time, he tells me, he has come over to England, stayed at the Watermill, with the old woman who nursed him as a baby, and made occasional visits to the tower-room in search of the will which was to restore him to his rights, going and coming always by means of those steps."
"Whatever made him think of that place?" said Jack, finding that my interruption was unreproved.
"He says that he remembered your grandfather telling some one that there was a false bottom in the oak chest which made a splendid hiding-place. He had tried several times to get it open, but he had never succeeded. The last time he tried was on that evening when he heard from old Jane that we had gone to Colchester. When he opened the lid of the chest he found Harold inside quite unconscious and almost suffocated14. Of course, he knew the ways of the house; so he carried him to the coachman's room, where he stayed with him till the gong sounded for prayers."
"Then they were his footmarks we saw in the mud," cried Rupert. "What a joke. Don't you tell him I said they were nineteens. What is he like? Is he very cross?"
"Here he comes, so you can judge for yourselves," said mother, opening the door to admit our new-found uncle, who turned out to be just as jolly as any boys could wish.
* * * * *
Years passed by. Uncle Joe, by means of the will, which was hidden in the oak chest, came into possession of a beautiful little estate in Normandy, where we all spent many happy days with our French cousins, for he had married a Frenchwoman. I say we, because, thanks to my cousins' good influence on mind and body, I became as strong as any one could expect, and was able to enjoy school life in a quiet way, though never fit for rough games, and always rather sensitive about the slight hump on my back.
Never shall I forget my grief when those first holidays were over, and father and mother and I stood at the door to wave our farewells.
"God bless you, children," said father; "you've done us all good."
"No, no, no!" replied father; and then the carriage went out of sight, though the sounds of the Australian "cooee" reached us for some minutes afterwards.
THE END.
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1
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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2
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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3
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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4
den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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5
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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6
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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7
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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8
oust
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| vt.剥夺，取代，驱逐 | |
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9
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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10
vow
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| n.誓(言)，誓约；v.起誓，立誓 | |
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11
paralysis
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| n.麻痹(症)；瘫痪(症) | |
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12
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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13
squandering
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| v.（指钱，财产等）浪费，乱花( squander的现在分词 ) | |
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14
suffocated
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| （使某人）窒息而死( suffocate的过去式和过去分词 )； （将某人）闷死； 让人感觉闷热； 憋气 | |
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15
savages
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| 未开化的人，野蛮人( savage的名词复数 ) | |
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