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It was an ordinary labourer's cottage with the usual patch of garden, just like scores of others round about; but it possessed a strange and peculiar interest of its own, for it was not an ordinary labourer who lived there, it was Miss Barnicroft, with two dogs and a goat.
It was so dreadful to see her sitting there, and to know how her face would change presently, that Ambrose had a wild impulse to run out of the room and leave the crock to tell its own tale. He gave a glance at David, and saw by the way he had placed his hands on his knees, and fixed his eyes immovably on Miss Barnicroft, that he had no intention of either moving or speaking.
He clasped his hands closely over his scarlet face and listened for the vicar's answer. "I don't think you chose a very safe place to hide your money," he said. "Gypsies and pedlars and tramps are constantly passing over Rumborough Common. Someone probably saw you bury it there." "I am more inclined to think that it was stolen by someone in the parish," said Miss Barnicroft.
There was nothing the least strange in the room, unless it was Miss Barnicroft herself, who, with her head tied up in a white cotton handkerchief, sat on one of the boxes, writing busily in a book. She gazed at her two visitors without knowing them at first, but soon a light came into her eyes. "Ah, the vicar's little boys, I think?" she said graciously. "Pray sit down."
Miss Barnicroft was indeed quite unlike other people; her very food was different, for she lived on vegetables and drank goat's milk. It was even whispered that she did not sleep in a bed, but in a hammock slung up to the ceiling. Nothing could be more interesting than all this, but the children did not see her very often, for she went out seldom and never came to church.
Seizing the crock, he suddenly rushed up to Miss Barnicroft, held it out, and said huskily: "We've come to bring back this!" David now slid off the box and placed himself gravely at his brother's side. Miss Barnicroft looked from the boys to the crock with a satirical light in her eyes. "And may I ask where you found it?" she said with icy distinctness which seemed to cut the air like a knife.
Crest-fallen and sorrowful, the boys crept out of the study when the interview was over. "I do believe," said Ambrose, "I would rather have been sent to prison, or have had some very bad punishment." "It'll be rather bad, though, to-morrow to have to take it back to Miss Barnicroft, won't it?" said David. "Do you suppose father will go in with us?"
"Oh, really!" said Miss Barnicroft, rising with a short laugh. "Well, you can give him my compliments, and say that I haven't altered my opinion of boys, and that I advise him to teach you your catechism, particularly your duty towards your neighbour." As the boys made hurriedly for the doorway, she suddenly called to them in quite a different voice, "Stay a minute.
In their walks with Miss Grey it was with a thrill of pleasure that they sometimes saw the well-known flighty figure approaching, for there was always something worth looking at in Miss Barnicroft. Her garments were never twice alike, so that she seemed a fresh person every time. Sometimes she draped herself in flowing black robes, with a veil tied closely over her head and round her face.
Miss Barnicroft rose with an air of having settled the question, but suddenly sat down again and said with a short laugh: "By the way, you have thieves in your parish." "Really! I hope not," said the vicar. Ambrose, who had retired to his former position on the rug, began to listen intently. This sounded interesting.
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