"Well, rather like it," said Sir James sarcastically.

"And so I sent that letter and that money to pay for it, sir, and I meant to send the rest if it wasn't quite enough."

"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the doctor eagerly.

"What letter? What money?" said Sir James.

"That money I sent by Bob Dimsted, sir, to put in your letter-box."

"I never received any money," cried Sir James. "You sent some money!"

"Yes, sir; before we took the boat, sir."

"Ah!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the doctor again.

"And you sent it by this boy?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then where is the money?" cried Sir James, turning upon Bob.

"I dunno, sir. I never had no money."

"You did, Bob, in a letter I gave you," cried Dexter excitedly.

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Bob, with an astonished look. "Well, if ever!"

"This is getting interesting," said Sir James. "Now, sir, where's that money?"

"He never give me none, sir," cried Bob indignantly. "I never see no letter."

"You did. The one I threw across the river to you!" said Dexter.

"Oh, what a cracker!" cried Bob. "I never had no letter, gen'lemen, and I never see no money. Why don't you tell the truth, and the kind gentlemen won't be so hard on you?"

"I am telling the truth," cried Dexter, "It was you asked me to take the boat."

"Only hark at him!" cried Bob. "Why yer'd better say yer didn't take all yer clothes off and swim acrost and get it."

"I did," said Dexter; "but you made me. You said you'd go."

"Oh, you can tell 'em!" cried Bob.

"And I did give you the money to take."

"Oh, well, I've done," said Bob. "I never did hear a chap tell lies like you can!"

"I think that will do," said Sir James, with a side glance at the doctor, who sat with his brows knit, listening. "Now, you will both go back to the room where you are to sleep, and I warn you that if you attempt to escape, so surely will you be taken by the police, and then this matter will a.s.sume a far more serious aspect. You, my men, will have charge of these two boys till the morning. They are not to speak to each other, and I look to you to take them safely back to Coleby by the early train. That will do."

Dexter darted one glance at the doctor, but his face was averted.

"Please, sir," he began.

"Silence!" cried Sir James. "I think Dr Grayson understands your character now, and I must say I never heard a more cowardly attempt to fasten a fault upon another. No: not a word. Go!"

Bob Dimsted was already outside with Dan'l's knuckles in the back of his neck.

Peter was more gentle with his prisoner as he led him away.

"You've been and done it now, young fellow," he said. "I would ha' told the truth."

Dexter turned to him with bursting heart, but he could not speak, and as soon as he was in his bedroom he threw himself before a chair, and buried his face in his hands, so as to try and shut out the reproachful face of Helen, which he seemed to see.

"I wish I had not been saved," he cried at last pa.s.sionately, and then he glanced at the window, and listened, while downstairs Sir James was saying quietly--

"There, Grayson, I think you understand the boy's character now."

"No," said the doctor shortly. "I don't think I do."

"What!"

"And I'd give a hundred pounds," said the doctor, "to know the truth."

"Really," said Sir James, laughing. "You are the most obstinate man I ever knew."

"Yes," said the doctor. "I suppose I am."

CHAPTER FORTY.

"HUZZA! WE'RE HOMEWARD BOUND!"

The first wet day there had been for a month. It seemed as if Mother Nature had been saving up all her rain in a great cistern, and was then letting it out at once.

No glorious sapphire seas and brilliant skies; no golden sunshine pouring down on tawny sands, over which waved the long pinnate leaves of the cocoa-nuts palms; no brilliant-coloured fish that seemed to be waiting to be caught; no glorious life of freedom, with their boat to enable them to glide from isle to isle, where it was always summer; but rain, rain, rain, always rain, pouring down from a lead-black sky.

A dreary prospect, but not half so dreary as Dexter's spirits, as he thought of what was to come.

If ever boy felt miserable, he did that next morning, for they were all going back to Coleby. The romantic adventure was at an end, and he was like a prisoner.

Why had he left the doctor's? What had he gained by it but misery and wretchedness. Bob had turned out one of the most contemptible cowards that ever stepped. He had proved to be a miserable tyrannical bully when they were alone; and in the face of danger a wretched cur; while now that they were caught he was ready to tell any lie to save his own skin.

What would Helen say to him, and think of him? What would Mr Hippetts say--and Mr Sibery?

He would be sent back to the Union of course; and one moment he found himself wishing that he had never left the schools to be confronted with such misery as he felt now.

They were on their way back by rail. The doctor, who had not even looked at him, was in a first-cla.s.s carriage with Sir James, and the plans being altered, and the boat sent up to Coleby by a trustworthy man, Bob and Dexter were returning in a second-cla.s.s carriage, with their custodians, Peter and old Dan'l.