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Maud Florence Nellie; or, Don't care!

Page 13

by L. T. Meade

gaze; "if you gostraight back and turn to the right, you'll come into the Raby road."

  The stranger lingered a moment as if he would have liked to say more,but contented himself with saying rather oddly, "Thank you--Miss," andwalking away.

  "How very odd!" said Geraldine, "that there _should_ be a stranger inthe wood. Who can he be?"

  "He was very civil in his speech," said Florrie. "Yes; but the wood'sprivate; he oughtn't to be here. Come along, Florence, we'll tell MrWarren we saw him."

  The two girls talked a little as they walked on together, Florencefeeling suddenly shy, and as if she had nothing to say for herself.Presently, as they came near the lodge, they met Wyn, looking hot andhurried. "Oh, if you please, Miss Geraldine," he said, touching hiscap, "you haven't seen anything like a letter lying about in theforest?"

  "A letter in the forest? Why, Wyn, how ever could a letter get there?"

  "I've lost one, ma'am, as a man gave me for Mr Edgar, and I'm going tolook for it again."

  "Oh," said Geraldine, "that must be the man that spoke to us just now,and asked his way. If you run right on, Wyn, you could catch him."

  Wyn rushed off, but presently came back, overtaking the girls again asthey came up to the lodge.

  "It wasn't the same man, Miss Geraldine," he said. "The man I met was astout party with a red beard, and this one was a deal thinner, and ablack-haired chap, too."

  "Then there's two strange men in the wood," said Florence.

  At this moment the keeper himself appeared, carrying his gun, andsaluting his young lady; and all three children began to tell theirstones. Warren took them very quietly. "I'll keep a look-out, ma'am,"he said to Geraldine; "but strangers do pass through the wood. There'sartists about nowadays. They scare the birds dreadful. And, as foryou, Wyn, you'd best go and look for that there note first thing in themorning: you'd no business to let it drop."

  "I think the man who spoke to me looked like an artist," said Geraldineas she went off.

  "Florrie," said Wyn, as his father went into the house, "I don't thinkthat the man who gave me the letter for Mr Edgar _was_ one of the Rabyor Ashwood keepers or gardeners; he hadn't the cut somehow, and he'dhave known Mr Edgar was at the Hall. And he did stare _that_ hard atme."

  "So did the other man at us," said Florence.

  "Was he a bird-catcher down from London, do you think?" said Wynastutely.

  "No," said Florence, "he looked too much the gentleman."

  "I'm sure he hadn't a red beard, aren't you?" said Wyn.

  "Red beard? No--d'ye think I haven't eyes in my head? He'd a pointedsort of black beard--same shape as Mr Cunningham's--only his is grey;and black eyes, looking right at you, like the squire's do. But, dearme, _I_ think a fellow creature or two's a great improvement in thatthere lonesome wood. I'd sooner meet a man than a snake any day. And Ibelieve I'd sooner meet a snake than nothing among all them trees!"

  "The trees don't set no traps nor springs," said Wyn, "and snakes aren'tcommon in our wood, and wriggles off pretty quick if you do meet withone."

  "Do you think your man was a poacher?" said Florence.

  "Well, Florrie," said Wyn, "there's all sorts of people come after gamein these days. _I_ shall keep my eyes open. Hallo! here's mothercalling us in to supper."

  In pursuance of this resolve, Wyn kept his eyes the next day open attheir widest, but neither red beard, black eyes, nor letter came intohis view, and the only thing he did see when he came disconsolately backagain was a great owl's nest that had apparently been pulled out of anold hollow tree on the Ravenshurst side of the wood and thrown on theground. Wyn was sorry; he thought the owls would never nest thereagain, and he would have had a chance next spring of getting a young onefor Mr Edgar.

  "You're to take the pony round again this afternoon, Wyn," said hismother when he got back, "and don't you be careless and drop any moreletters about, anyhow."

  Florence was very much interested in the mysterious strangers in thewood, and in the lost letter. She went for a stroll with Wyn before itwas time for him to fetch the pony, and they worked themselves up into astate of excitement, and a general idea that their keen observation ofsuspicious characters was highly to their credit. In the course oftheir walk they met two of the under-keepers, and Wyn stopped and askedthem if they had seen anybody about. He described his man with the redbeard much as if he had been a giant, and Florence chimed in with hersuspicions of the dark man who had spoken to Miss Geraldine, till herdescription of him would have befitted the villain in a melodrama. Theboy and girl succeeded in setting the young men on the look-out, andpreparing discomfort for the strangers if they were seen. Florencefound a chat with the young keepers a pleasant variety in her quietlife, especially when it was so justifiable, and she lingered, talkingand joking, till Wyn pulled her skirts, and said Mr Edgar would beready.

  "You see what we'll bring you, Miss," said one of the lads as he wentoff.

  "You ain't men enough to get them there poachers," said Florence.

  "Ain't we though?" cried the other youth.

  "They'd best not come our way in a hurry."

  Florence laughed, and ran off after Wyn, who remarked virtuously:

  "We've done our duty, I'm sure, in spreading about all we've noticed."

  "Your father knows too," said Florrie.

  "Yes," said Wyn, with a slight suspicion that his father could havewarned his own under-keepers for himself; "but father can't beeverywhere at once. They might rob Mr Edgar."

  "Or frighten Miss Geraldine," said Florence, "so it's quite our duty togive a warning."

  CHAPTER ELEVEN.

  MEETING.

  If Wyn Warren had chanced to be in the right part of the wood at theright time on the afternoon after he found the owl's nest, he might haveseen all the three objects of his search. For while he was leadingDobbles across the park towards the wood in order that Mr Edgar mighttry to sketch the lily pond, and hoping while his master was so engagedto get another chance of hunting for the letter, a respectable-lookingnurse with a little boy and girl in pretty summer clothes came along thepath from Ravenshurst to the stile in the Raby road. They passed thetall red-bearded man who had given Wyn the letter; but, being strangersto Ashcroft, his appearance there struck them as nothing remarkable; thenurse was holding the little boy by the hand, and the girl, runninground her, was picking up moss and twigs, when her eyes fell on the spotwhich Wyn's had failed to find, and on which the red-bearded stranger'shad never lighted. She had found one pretty, funny, white puff-ball,and she thought this other white object lying under the ferns was suchanother, till she took it in her hand and found that it was somethingmuch more familiar to her, namely, a letter in an envelope, moistened,and ready to break with the damp of the woods.

  Lily Carleton poked her little fat fingers under the seal till the papergave way and the open letter was in her hand, and she threw the envelopeaway and spread out the letter.

  "It's a letter from the fairies," she thought, nodding her head, for shewas a fanciful little person. "I'll take it home and get mother to readit to me."

  She stuffed the letter into her little pocket, and, all unknowing,passed the writer of it, close to the stile in the Raby road, talking tothe man with the red beard--a combination which would certainly have ledWyn to think that the two mysterious strangers were plotting mischief.

  "Shall you go then, sir, as you have had no answer?" said he of the redbeard.

  "Yes, on the chance. It can do no harm; it's all a chance, you see.You're sure the lad said he was at home?"

  "Yes, he undertook to deliver the note. But he was so sure I was goingto set night-lines, or do some damage here, that I had to walk off asstraight as I could."

  "Ay, we can't lurk about here in secret. That's why I take this step.Maybe I'm going on a fool's errand, but we'll meet at the station in anycase. I don't look altogether like a poacher, do I, Harry?"

  "Well, Mr Alwyn, if you do," said Harry, laughing, "poachers must havei
mproved since our time. Perhaps they have, for I didn't think I wasquite the cut of one myself, and, for sure, that lad took me for somesuch customer. Keep up heart, sir, I'll be on the look-out."

  So saying, he jumped over the stile, while his companion turned roundand walked slowly through the wood. He threaded the tracks and gladeswith perfect case; but at the point where the next turn would bring himinto view of the great ash-tree

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