ham and bacon always
went so well with China tea. You may depend upon that ham, sir, being
beautiful."

"Very singular fact, Mrs Champernowne," said Uncle Paul blandly. "Then
perhaps you wouldn't mind cutting the rashers a little thicker. I am
rather ashamed of my nephew's appetite; but then you see he's only a
hungry, growing boy."

Uncle Paul took out his watch again, and this time their landlady took
the hint, and hurried into the kitchen, from which delicious odours soon
began to escape, and in the midst of the examination upon the
window-sill, where the bright sun lit up the lenses of the microscope,
the magnified hydrae, with their buds and wondrous developments, were
set aside, to be superseded by the morning meal.

"Ah, yes," said Uncle Paul, thoroughly mollified now by Mrs
Champernowne's preparations, "there are worse disasters at sea, Pickle,
and I'd worn that old coat off and on for a good many years."

"You couldn't have worn it off and on, uncle," said Rodd dryly.

"Look here, sir; if your mother, my dear sister, had had the slightest
idea that you would have grown up into such an impertinent,
two-edged-tongued young scrub, I don't believe she'd have died and left
you in my charge. I suppose you meant that to be very witty, sir.
Please understand that I was only speaking figuratively. Now we will
just spend about an hour over those specimens, and then, as it is so
beautiful and fine, we will be off on to the moor again. You will take
your fishing-rod, of course?"

"Oh yes, uncle."

"Then turn up the bottoms of those trousers before we start."

"No, uncle; I shall put my leggings on over these," said Rodd coolly,
"and I should advise you to do the same." Both Uncle Paul's ears seemed
to twitch, and he scratched one as if it itched; but he said nothing,
for just then Mrs Champernowne tapped at the door, to enter smiling,
with a packet of letters.

"Postman, sir," she said, placing the letters upon the table. "You
won't mind me speaking another word, sir?" she said.

"Oh no, Mrs Champernowne," said her visitor, rather gruffly. "What is
it?"

"I think you told me, sir, that the prisoners did not take any of your
valuables, your money, or anything of that sort?"

"No, Mrs Champernowne," cried Rodd eagerly. "They took uncle's money,
but they left a lot of French napoleons instead."

Uncle Paul made a snatch at a very big blue letter, and darted a furious
look at his nephew.

"I am ve