CHAPTER IX.

CLEARING UP.

"A PRECIOUS scrape Uncle Ned has got himself into!" exclaimed Dan on the following morning, as he blew the steam from his bowl of hot milk and bread. "He'll be had up afore the magistrate to-day, and then clapped into jail for I don't know how long!"

"If he'd only had the wit to say that he'd never entered them woods!" exclaimed Bessy.

"Ah! He won't be atwitting me again for what he calls 'a mean thing, a senseless, a wicked'—we shan't be hearing no more that a liar is 'a sneak, a coward, a fool!'"

"Don't make too sure of that, my lad!" cried a loud cheery voice at the door.

Bessy and Dan both started up in surprise, as Mr. Curtis and the sailor entered the cottage.

"Well, if ever! Is he cleared?" exclaimed Bessy, reading an answer at once in the beaming face of her brother.

"Yes, cleared, come off with flying colours," said the vicar; "truth has ever the victory at last."

"Why," exclaimed the wondering Dan, "here comes Sir Lacy himself, at this hour of the day!"

In bustled the knight with his flushed face and his bushy white whiskers, but looking a different man from what he had done on the previous day. Notwithstanding a violent temper, which led often to passion, and not unfrequently to injustice, there was something kindly and generous still in the character of Sir Lacy.

"I could not rest," he said, as to the utter amazement of the Peeles, he held out his hand to the sailor, "I could not rest till I had told you how much I regret yesterday's mistake. But you'll own that appearances were against you."

"Ay, ay, sir, things looked ill," replied Ned.

"I should wish—I should like," began the knight, half pulling a sovereign out of his waistcoat pocket, but Ned instinctively drew back, with a feeling utterly incomprehensible to Mrs. Peele and her son.

"No, sir; if you do me a favour, please kindly to let off the little chap who bravely spoke out the truth and cleared me."

"I've done that already, at the request of my good friend the vicar," said the knight. "I want to do something else, my fine fellow, to show my feeling towards yourself."

"Then, sir, if you'd have the kindness not to send my sister here adrift at Michaelmas: she has a love for her little cabin, and is sore loath to leave it."

"As long as you remain here," said the knight, "I give you my word that the cottage shall stand."

Bessy poured out a torrent of thanks and blessings to which no one gave heed, while Ned Franks simply replied, "I thank you, sir, kindly."

Then, turning towards the vicar, he expressed in few but heartfelt words his gratitude towards him and his lady.

"Depend upon it, Ned Franks," said Mr. Curtis, "a man who will not speak an untruth either for fear or for favour, is never likely to want a friend. He only can walk on the straight path freely, firmly, fearlessly, who keeps the Master's command in mind and wears the Girdle of Truth."

THE END.