"B--e--a--s--t," said Wrench, "only it's turned nearly black with being in the water, and very badly done; but that's it, sure enough, sir--_beast_."

"Yes, that's it--_beast_," said another of the boys, s.n.a.t.c.hing the bat from Glyn's hand, while another boy got hold of the brick.

"Come on, boys," cried Burton. "Let's get a spade from the potting-shed and bury the beast before old Slegge knows." And away they galloped, followed by a shout from the gardener:

"Here, I say, you mind you put that there spade away again!--They're nice uns, Mr Severn, sir, and knew about it all the time."

"Yes," said Wrench; "that young Burton was chuckling and laughing so that he could hardly bear himself while he was waiting to see it come up.--Now, then, twist t'other bucket over, mate, and give it a drag round the bottom. What are we going to catch next?"

Glyn started once more, his heart beginning to beat fast with expectation; but it gradually calmed down as the time went on, bucket after bucket after a careful sc.r.a.ping along the bottom bringing up nothing but a very little mud, and he began to feel convinced that if there had been a morocco case down at the bottom of the well it must have been felt in the careful dredging the live rock received, even if it had not been brought up.

"There," said Wrench, "that'll do for to-day. It's only sc.r.a.ping for nothing to get a little mud like that. I dare say there'll be six inches of water in the bottom by to-morrow morning, and we will give the whole place a good sc.r.a.ping round in getting that out; then another the next day, and it ought to do."

"But do you feel sure there's nothing down there now?" said Glyn.

"Certain, sir. What do you say to going down yourself to see? You could stand in the bucket, and we'd let you down. You wouldn't mind turning round as you went down?"

"No," cried Glyn eagerly; "and there's no water there now."

"Not much more than enough to fill a teacup, sir. What do you say?"

"I'll go," cried Glyn excitedly. "I could take a lantern with me so as to make sure there was nothing left."

"Well, yes, sir, it would be wise to take a candle," said Wrench.--"Wouldn't it, gardener?"

"Nay, my lad; you ought to send the light down first. Then, if it didn't go out, him as went down wouldn't go out."

"What do you mean?" said Glyn.

"Foul air, sir. Like enough there's some down at the bottom of that well."

"Oh, there couldn't be any to hurt," cried Glyn eagerly. "I'll go, Wrench. Get a candle."

"Not I, sir," said the man st.u.r.dily. "If any one was to go down that well it would be me; but there ain't no need for it. I could swear there's nothing down there, and I shan't go."

"n.o.body wants you to go," cried Glyn. "I'll go myself."

"That you don't, sir, if I know it," said Wrench st.u.r.dily. "Pst!

Here's the Doctor."

For at that moment the entrance was darkened and the Doctor came in, picking his way very carefully lest he should step into one of the puddles of the muddy floor.

"Well, my men," he said in his slow, pompous way, "have you nearly emptied the well?"

"Quite, sir," said Wrench.

"Was there any mud?"

"Yes, sir; we got out about two cart-loads, and sc.r.a.ped out all we could. To-morrow, when there's a little more water come back, we're going to try again."

"Yes," said the Doctor; "clean it out thoroughly while you are about it; and mind and carefully secure the door when you come away. You had better lock it, so that n.o.body can get in.--Well, Mr Severn, you must be tired of watching here. Come and walk down the garden with me."

Glyn followed the Doctor, who made room for him to walk abreast till they were half-way down the main path, when the latter said quietly, "Well, Severn, what have you found?"

"Nothing, sir," replied Severn, who did not consider it necessary to allude to the bat.

"No," said the Doctor; "I did not expect you would. Of course, you see, my boy, that it was only a dream."

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

BETWEEN BOYS.

"Oh, I say, what a lovely morning!"

Glyn, who had lain awake half the night, woke up with a start, to see Singh standing barefooted by the window, which he had just thrown wide open to let in the joyous sunshine and the soft sweet air. "Yes, jolly," he cried, inhaling a deep breath. "No! Most miserable morning I ever saw," and he sank back sitting on the edge of his bed, to utter a deep groan.

Singh sprang to his side in an instant. "Glyn, old chap, what's the matter? Are you ill?"

"Yes, horribly. In my head. Oh, I say! I couldn't sleep for ever so long last night for thinking about it."

"Then why didn't you wake me, old fellow? I'd have dressed directly and gone and told the Doctor."

"What about?"

"You being so ill."

"Bah!" cried Glyn angrily. "It isn't salts and senna. What a fellow you are! You don't mean to say that you'd forgotten that the dad's coming down to-day?"

Singh plumped himself down on the carpet like a native of Dour, untroubled by clothes, with his knees nearly to his ears and his crossed hands before him resting on the floor, while his face lost its sympathetic expression and puckered up into one of misery and despair.

"Yes, I had," he said, with a groan; "all about it. Here," he cried pa.s.sionately, "I won't be treated like a schoolboy! I am a prince and a chief, and the belt was mine. It's gone, and I won't be bullied about it by any one."

"Not even by your guardian, eh?"

"Not even by my guardian," cried the boy haughtily. "If Colonel Severn says anything to me about it I shall tell him I won't hear another word, and that he is to go to the best jeweller in London and order another exactly like the one that has been stolen."

"Of course," said Glyn solemnly. "It'll be as easy as kissing your hand, and they'll know at once how to engrave the emeralds with the old Sanskrit inscription, and make the belt of the same kind of leather, so beautifully soft, dull, and yellow; and there are plenty of people in London who can do that Indian embroidery."

Singh nodded his head shortly.

"Bah! You jolly old Tom Noodle!" continued Glyn; "why, even if they could get as big emeralds and manage somehow to have the exact words of the inscription cut, would it be the same old belt and stones as came down from the past, and that your father used to wear?"

Singh's eyes dilated and his lips parted.

"No," he said with a groan. "Oh, Glynny, what a beast you are! And you call yourself my friend!"

"Never," cried Glyn. "It was you said I was."