72 The Brothers

 

your catching me here, and I’ll tell the master
who’s got his knife. There’s plain speaking
for you; do you understand?” and Ned, who
was two years older than Stephen, took hold
of him fiercely. “You haven't said a word to
Johnnie about the knife?”

“No.”

“You hold your tongue then, and don’t say
a word about me to him, or about being here
to-day, or I'll just tell the master what the
good boy’s got of his; you may trust to
that ;” and, releasing his hold, Ned dashed off
across the beds, jumped the garden fence, and
vanished.

Stephen stood looking at the beds, spoilt—
all spoilt ; not a strawberry to send, and what
was he to say? How was he to join in this
deceit? How could he answer all the ques-
tions they would put to him? Oh!-how
miserable he was! What should he do? He
was sitting on the door-step, moodily enough,
when Johnnie came singing downstairs.

“Well, Stephen, have you gathered my
strawberries ?”

“No.”

“Hullo! you have been lazy. Here, give
me the basket ; I'll go and get them.”

“ There are none.”