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"Throwing myself away, sir," cried Pete, with a merry laugh. "Poor old soul, though, she knows no better. Good-bye, sir. I shall see you again. I read your name in the paper the other day about finding a comet, and it made me laugh to think of the old days. Good-day, sir. I'm going to see Mr Maxted. I find he has been very good to the poor old granny since I've been away."
"Well, boy, it isn't Mrs Fidler's money. That must be exact." Bang, hang, hang at the gate, and then "Anybody at home?" came faintly. "Why, it's Mr Maxted, uncle. May I go and speak to him?" "Yes, you can let go now. Tell him to come up." Tom left the telescope and went to the shutter, which he threw open, and stepped out into the little gallery. "Good-morning. Your uncle there?" "Yes, sir.
Mr Maxted used to talk to me, but it was seeing what you were set me thinking so much; but there was no way, and I got into trouble. I'm off to Malta, sir, in a month. On furlough now, and down here to see the old woman." "Ah! She's very feeble now, Pete." "Very, sir. She's awfully old; but she knew me directly, and began to blow me up." "What for?"
"I can't," said Tom bluntly, and a curiously stubborn look came over his countenance. Then angrily "Mr Maxted oughtn't to think I'd do such a thing." The Vicar compressed his lips and wrinkled up his forehead. "Well, I can," said Uncle Richard. "No, Maxted, he couldn't have stolen your plums, because he was out quite late stealing pears the other way on."
Now, Tom, let's look and see whether we have succeeded or failed." "Succeeded," cried Tom excitedly, when the heavy fragment of the speculum was lifted out of the hot sunshine perfectly dry, and laid flat upon the bench. "Look, Mr Maxted, you can see that it is silvered all over."
"I know," cried Tom now; "fulminate of silver is what they put in percussion caps, isn't it, uncle?" "No; that is a very similar compound, but it is fulminate of mercury. Well, Maxted, what am I to say to you for trying to kill you?" "I think you had better say nothing," said the Vicar quietly.
"That was some 'un artful, sir, and he got in." "Slipped in descending inside, and dragged the speculum on the floor," said Uncle Richard, frowning. "Now the question is, who was it?" "Ah, who was it, sir?" said David. "Arn't such a great many folk in Furzebrough, and I should say as it lies between Parson Maxted and Pete Warboys, and it warn't parson, 'cause of the boots."
Mr Maxted says you're winning him over, but I doubt it." "Yes, uncle, so do I," said Tom, smiling. "I feel in doubt," continued Uncle Richard, "whether I ought not to have tried to prove whether it was really he who helped to break in here. But there: I only want to be left in peace, and a month's imprisonment would do him harm, and bring out matters I want forgotten. Ever seen these before?"
"I've been a good deal shaken, and my ears are full of a sharp singing sound, but I'm rapidly coming round. Send for him to see Mr Maxted." "Oh dear me, no. I'm very much better," said the Vicar. "I was very much frightened, and I have a lump on the back of my head, but that is all. You had better send for him, I think, to see Master Tom here." "I don't want any doctor," exclaimed Tom.
"Thunderbolt, mum; I saw the flash," cried David; and as Tom still held up his uncle's head, and knelt there confused, half-stunned and helpless, Mrs Fidler's voice rose again. "Quick! help them before the place falls. Master! poor master! Mr Maxted Master Tom!"
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