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release you. You will keep your promise to refrain from violence?'
'How this bolt do stick, said the keeper; anyone ud think it hadn't been drawed for half a year. As a
matter of fact it hadn't.
When all the bolts were drawn, the keeper spoke deep-chested words through the keyhole.
'I don't open, said he, till you've gone over to the other side of the tower. And if one of you comes at
me I fire. Now!'
'We're all over on the other side, said the voices.
The keeper felt pleased with himself, and owned himself a bold man when he threw open that door, and,
stepping out into the leads, flashed the full light of the stable lantern on to the group of desperadoes
standing against the parapet on the other side of the tower.
He lowered his gun, and he nearly dropped the lantern.
'So help me, he cried, if they ain't a pack of kiddies!'
The Vicar now advanced.
'How did you come here? he asked severely. Tell me at once.'
'Oh, take us down, said Jane, catching at his coat, and we'll tell you anything you like. You won't
believe us, but it doesn't matter. Oh, take us down!'
The others crowded round him, with the same entreaty. All but Cyril. He had enough to do with the
soda-water syphon, which would keep slipping down under his jacket. It needed both hands to keep it
steady in its place.
But he said, standing as far out of the lantern light as possible:
'Please do take us down.'
So they were taken down. It is no joke to go down a strange church-tower in the dark, but the keeper
helped them-only, Cyril had to be independent because of the soda-water syphon. It would keep trying
to get away. Half-way down the ladder it all but escaped. Cyril just caught it by its spout, and as nearly
as possible lost his footing. He was trembling and pale when at last they reached the bottom of the
winding stair and stepped out on to the flags of the church-porch.
Then suddenly the keeper caught Cyril and Robert each by an arm.
'You bring along the gells, sir, said he; you and Andrew can manage them.'
'Let go! said Cyril; we aren't running away. We haven't hurt your old church. Leave go!'
'You just come along, said the keeper; and Cyril dared not oppose him with violence, because just then
the syphon began to slip again.
So they were all marched into the Vicarage study, and the Vicar's wife came rushing in.
'Oh, William, are you safe? she cried.
Robert hastened to allay her anxiety.
'Yes, he said, he's quite safe. We haven't hurt him at all. And please, we're very late, and they'll be
anxious at home. Could you send us home in your carriage?'
'Or perhaps there's a hotel near where we could get a carriage from, said Anthea. Martha will be very
anxious as it is.'
The Vicar had sunk into a chair, overcome by emotion and amazement.
Cyril had also sat down, and was leaning forward with his elbows on his knees because of that
soda-water syphon.
'But how did you come to be locked up in the church-tower? asked the Vicar.
'We went up, said Robert slowly, and we were tired, and we all went to sleep, and when we woke up
we found the door was locked, so we yelled.'
'I should think you did! said the Vicar's wife. Frightening everybody out of their wits like this! You
ought to be ashamed of yourselves.'
'We are, said Jane gently.
'But who locked the door? asked the Vicar.
'I don't know at all, said Robert, with perfect truth. Do please send us home.'
'Well, really, said the Vicar, I suppose we'd better. Andrew, put the horse to, and you can take them
home.'
'Not alone, I don't, said Andrew to himself.
'And, the Vicar went on, let this be a lesson to you ... He went on talking, and the children listened
miserably. But the keeper was not listening. He was looking at the unfortunate Cyril. He knew all about
poachers of course, so he knew how people look when they're hiding something. The Vicar had just got
to the part about trying to grow up to be a blessing to your parents, and not a trouble and a disgrace,
when the keeper suddenly said:
'Arst him what he's got there under his jacket'; and Cyril knew that concealment was at an end. So he
stood up, and squared his shoulders and tried to look noble, like the boys in books that no one can look
in the face of and doubt that they come of brave and noble families and will be faithful to the death, and
he pulled out the soda-water syphon and said:
'Well, there you are, then.'
There was a silence. Cyril went on-there was nothing else for it:
'Yes, we took this out of your larder, and some chicken and tongue and bread. We were very hungry,
and we didn't take the custard or jam. We only took bread and meat and water-and we couldn't help its
being the soda kind-just the necessaries of life; and we left half-a-crown to pay for it, and we left a letter.
And we're very sorry. And my father will pay a fine or anything you like, but don't send us to prison.
Mother would be so vexed. You know what you said about not being a disgrace. Well, don't you go and
do it to us-that's all! We're as sorry as we can be. There!'
'However did you get up to the larder window? said Mrs Vicar.
'I can't tell you that, said Cyril firmly.
'Is this the whole truth you've been telling me? asked the clergyman.
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