"I don't want to see them, uncle," said Tom quietly.

"Not to-day perhaps, but you will, my boy. Some day we will go over the matter together; we neither of us want to talk about it now."

"No, uncle, of course not."

Uncle Richard placed the big envelope in the drawer and locked it up, placing the keys in his pocket; but directly after he took them out again, and opened the drawer in which lay several other legal-looking doc.u.ments in cartridge envelopes.

"Get me one of those very large cartridge envelopes, Tom, out of the stationery drawer," he said; and this being fetched from the table-drawer, the important deeds were slipped in, fastened down, and the envelope afterwards tied round in the most business-like way with red tape. After which a wax-match was lit, and the ends of the tape covered with sealing-wax, and stamped with an old signet-ring.

"There, my boy, we'll leave it for the present. Some day I will go and see my solicitor about the matter."

Tom uttered a sigh of relief as the doc.u.ments were locked up, for the sight of them troubled him. He felt in a way that he could not have explained, as if he were in some way answerable for the shame which had come upon their family, and that it was causing something like restraint between him and his uncle, who evidently was cruelly chagrined by his brother's conduct.

"I shan't be in any hurry to have them brought out again," thought Tom; and as Uncle Richard placed the keys in his pocket, Tom began hurriedly to talk about the speculum.

"How long will it be before we are able to--to what you may call it?"

"Mount it?" said Uncle Richard, smiling sadly.

"Yes, uncle," cried Tom. "You don't know how I long to get it right, so that we can have a look at the moon."

"It will be some time yet, my boy," replied Uncle Richard with a sigh; and Tom felt startled, for it seemed to him as if the stern, decisive-looking countenance before him had grown older, and the lines in it more deeply-marked.

"Some time, uncle? Why, you said it was as good as finished."

"Yes, my boy, but duty first and pleasure after. While I have been doing this little bit of business other things have crossed my mind. I shall go up to town again to-morrow."

"To Uncle James's?" said Tom, after a pause.

"For one thing, yes. It is painful, my boy, but I feel that I ought to go."

Tom was silent. He stood there feeling that his uncle was behaving differently to him. For his words were cold and measured, and he did not speak in the light, pleasant way of a couple of days back. At the same time, it was not that there was a division between them, but as if Uncle Richard treated him like one who shared with him a sad secret. He was graver, and there was a confidential tone in his voice which made the boy feel that he had grown older all at once.

"Shall you want me to go with you, uncle?" said Tom at last.

Uncle Richard looked at him intently.

"Do you feel as if you could go, Tom?" he asked.

Tom was silent; and then, as the searching eyes would take no denial, and forced him to speak, the boy cleared his throat from something which seemed to choke him, and spoke out hurriedly.

"Don't think me queer and awkward, or ungrateful, uncle," he cried.

"I'm ready to forgive Uncle James, but I never did, and never can feel, as if I liked him. I would rather not go and see him, but if you say I ought to I will."

"I do not say you ought to, Tom," said his uncle gravely; "but as his brother, I feel that I must now he is so bad."

"You're not angry with me, uncle?"

"No, boy. I like the way in which you have spoken out. I could not have stood it, Tom, if you had a.s.sumed anything and been hypocritical.

There, now, we will leave the subject. I shall go up again to-morrow morning. You can spend your time in doing any little thing to make this place more snug and home-like. I dare say I shall be back to-morrow evening."

Tom uttered a sigh full of relief as they went back to the cottage, and that night slept soundly enough, never once giving a thought to the doc.u.ments in the old mill, which had suddenly turned him from a penniless lad into one with a few thousands to start in life when he came of age.

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

That next morning when Tom jumped out of bed, he felt light-hearted, and ready for anything. He threw open his window to have a look round, and knew by a low whistling that David had come to work. Then reaching out to have a look at the mill, with his head full of telescope, he stared, for the door was open; and excited by this, and fearing something was wrong, he hurriedly dressed, went down, and found that it only wanted a quarter to eight.

"And I thought it was only about half-past six," he muttered, as he hurried out and across to the mill.

All was still there, and he looked round, but nothing appeared to have been disturbed; but upon looking up he could see the keys were in the laboratory door, and he paused with his heart beating.

"Pooh!" he muttered to himself, as he drove away the hesitation.

"n.o.body would be there now."

He went up the stairs, though softly, as if in doubt, and looked through the ajar door, to see that which made him steal softly down again, for, with a black bag on the front of the old bureau, Uncle Richard was busily writing, evidently getting some business done before he went off to town.

"Morning, Tom," he said a quarter of an hour later, as he entered the breakfast-room, black bag in hand; "you needn't have crept down again, I was only doing a little business before breakfast."

"Then you heard me, uncle?"

"To be sure I did, my lad.--Morning, Mrs Fidler."

"Good-morning, sir," said the housekeeper; "and--and I sincerely hope you will find your poor brother better when you get up to town."

Uncle Richard bowed his head, and the housekeeper went on--

"Don't you think, sir, if it could anyhow be managed, you ought to try and get him down here again? You know how much better he grew while he was here."

"Yes," said Uncle Richard quietly, as he went on with his breakfast.

"And though I'm not clever as a nurse, you know, sir, I'd do anything I could to make him well."

"I do know it, Mrs Fidler," said Uncle Richard warmly; "but," he added, with his face growing more grave, "he will not come down here again."

Mrs Fidler sighed, and Tom kept his eyes fixed upon his coffee-cup.

The breakfast pa.s.sed off very silently, and as soon as it was over, Uncle Richard went into the next room, when Mrs Fidler seized upon the opportunity to speak.

"I feel as if I must say it, Master Tom," she said, in a low tone of voice, "and I know you won't tell your uncle, but I don't like Mr James Brandon a bit, and I don't like his son; but if master will bring him down there's nothing I won't do to try and make him well; and I do a.s.sure you, Master Tom, that there's a deal more in good jellies and very strong beef-tea than there is in doctors' stuff."

"They're much nicer," said Tom, smiling.

"Ah, but it isn't all that, sir; it's the strength there is in them.

Perhaps master might like me to go up and nurse his brother."

"No, I'm sure he would not," said Tom; and just then his uncle returned.