tied it round
his brother's neck, and kissed him.

Sidney, whose anger seldom lasted long, was reconciled; and they went
into the garden to play. It was a little spot, screened by an old
moss-grown paling, from the neighbouring garden on the one side and
a lane on the other. They played with great glee till the night grew
darker and the dews heavier.

"This must be the last time," cried Philip. "It is my turn to hide."

"Very well! Now, then."

Philip secreted himself behind a poplar; and as Sidney searched for him,
and Philip stole round and round the tree, the latter, happening to look
across the paling, saw the dim outline of a man's figure in the lane,
who appeared watching them. A thrill shot across his breast. These
Beauforts, associated in his thoughts with every evil omen and augury,
had they set a spy upon his movements? He remained erect and gazing
at the form, when Sidney discovered, and ran up to him, with his noisy
laugh.

As the child clung to him, shouting with gladness, Philip, unheeding his
playmate, called aloud and imperiously to the stranger--

"What are you gaping at? Why do you stand watching us?"

The man muttered something, moved on, and disappeared. "I hope there
are no thieves here! I am so much afraid of thieves," said Sidney,
tremulously.

The fear grated on Philip's heart. Had he not himself, perhaps, been
judged and treated as a thief? He said nothing, but drew his brother
within; and there, in their little room, by the one poor candle, it was
touching and beautiful to see these boys--the tender patience of the
elder lending itself to every whim of the younger--now building
houses with cards--now telling stories of fairy and knight-errant--the
sprightliest he could remember or invent. At length, as all was over,
and Sidney was undressing for the night, Philip, standing apart, said to
him, in a mournful voice:--

"Are you sad now, Sidney?"

"No! not when you are with me--but that is so seldom."

"Do you read none of the story-books I bought for you?"

"Sometimes! but one can't read all day."

"Ah! Sidney, if ever we should part, perhaps you will love me no
longer!"

"Don't say so," said Sidney. "But we sha'n't part, Philip?"

Philip sighed, and turned away as his brother leaped into bed. Something
whispered to him that danger was near; and as it was, could Sidney grow
up, neglected and uneducated; was it thus that he was to fulfil his
trust?

CHAPTER IX.

"B