gentleman did ride home with Mrs. Temple, Nick going
into another coach. I afterwards discovered that the gentleman had
bribed him with a guinea. And Mr. Riddle more than once came near
running down my pony on his big charger, and he swore at me roundly,
too.
That night there was a gay supper party in the big dining room at Temple
Bow. Nick and I looked on from the gallery window. It was a pretty
sight. The long mahogany board reflecting the yellow flames of the
candles, and spread with bright silver and shining dishes loaded with
dainties, the gentlemen and ladies in brilliant dress, the hurrying
servants,--all were of a new and strange world to me. And presently,
after the ladies were gone, the gentlemen tossed off their wine and
roared over their jokes, and followed into the drawing-room. This I
noticed, that only Mr. Harry Riddle sat silent and morose, and that he
had drunk more than the others.
"Come, Davy," said Nick to me, "let's go and watch them again."
"But how?" I asked, for the drawing-room windows were up some distance
from the ground, and there was no gallery on that side.
"I'll show you," said he, running into the garden. After searching
awhile in the dark, he found a ladder the gardener had left against a
tree; after much straining, we carried the ladder to the house and
set it up under one of the windows of the drawing-room. Then we both
clambered cautiously to the top and looked in.
The company were at cards, silent, save for a low remark now and again.
The little tables were ranged along by the windows, and it chanced that
Mr. Harry Riddle sat so close to us that we could touch him. On his
right sat Mr. Darnley, the stout gentleman, and in the other seats two
ladies. Between Mr. Riddle and Mr. Darnley was a pile of silver and gold
pieces. There was not room for two of us in comfort at the top of the
ladder, so I gave place to Nick, and sat on a lower rung. Presently I
saw him raise himself, reach in, and duck quickly.
"Feel that," he whispered to me, chuckling and holding out his hand.
It was full of money.
"But that's stealing, Nick," I said, frightened.
"Of course I'll give it back," he whispered indignantly.
Instantly there came loud words and the scraping of chairs within the
room, and a woman's scream. I heard Mr. Riddle's voice say thickly, amid
the silence that followed:--
"Mr. Darnley, you're a d--d thief, sir."
"You shall answer for this, when you are sober, sir," sa
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