ou ever trust us any more?" asked David bluntly, with his eyes
full of tears.

"I hope so," said his father, "but that must depend on yourselves. You
will have to show me that you are worthy of trust."

Crest-fallen and sorrowful, the boys crept out of the study when the
interview was over.

"I do believe," said Ambrose, "I would rather have been sent to prison,
or have had some very bad punishment."

"It'll be rather bad, though, to-morrow to have to take it back to Miss
Barnicroft, won't it?" said David. "Do you suppose father will go in
with us?"

That very evening, in the twilight, the crock with its glittering pieces
was unearthed for the second time, but with far less labour than at
first.

"I'm glad it's out of my garden anyway," said David as they went back to
the house with it.

"I'm not glad of anything," replied Ambrose despairingly; and indeed he
felt that he should never care about pleasure or be happy again until
his father had said that he could trust him.

Snuff, the terrier, knew quite well the next morning when the boys
started with their father that there was something wrong. No smiles, no
shouts, no laughter, no throwing of sticks for him to fetch--only two
sad and sober little boys marching along by the vicar's side. The dog
tried at first, by dancing round them with short barks and jumps, to
excite the dull party into gaiety, but soon finding no response forsook
them altogether, and abandoned himself heart and soul to a frantic
rabbit hunt. Rumborough Common looked coldly desolate as ever, and as
they passed the Camp and saw the very hole where the crock had been
buried an idea struck David.

"Mightn't we put it where we got it, and tell her it's there?" he asked.

But the vicar would not hear of this.

"You must give it back into Miss Barnicroft's own hands," he answered,
"and tell her how you came to dig it up. Perhaps Ambrose had better go
in alone, and we will wait here in the lane for him."

Arrived at Miss Barnicroft's gate, Ambrose hung back and cast an
imploring glance at his father. He had wished for a "bad punishment;"
but it was too dreadful to face all the unknown terrors of Miss
Barnicroft's house alone.

"Come, Ambrose," said Mr Hawthorne encouragingly, "you must take
courage. It is never easy to confess our faults, but there is nothing
really to fear. It will soon be over."

Ambrose pushed open the gate, and with the crock under his arm crept a
few steps t