"What would be the good of that?" asked Robert.
However, the fun was irresistible, and the only wonder was that the secret was kept for the whole day, while Allen moulded in the studio two things that might pass for ass's ears, and secreted cement enough to fasten them on. The performance elicited such a rapture of applause that the door had to be fast locked against the incursion of the little ones to learn the cause of the mirth. When Mother Carey asked at tea what they were having so much fun about they only blushed, sniggled, and wriggled in their chairs in a way that would have alarmed a more suspicious mother, but only made her conclude that some delightful surprise was preparing, for which she must keep her curiosity in abeyance.
"Nor was she dismayed by the creaking of boots on the attic stairs before dawn, and when the boys appeared at breakfast with hellebore, blue periwinkle, and daffodils, clear indications of where they had been, she only exclaimed-
"Forbidden sweets! O you naughty boys!" when ecstatic laughter alone replied.
She heard no more till the afternoon, when the return from school was notified by shouts from Allen, and the boys rushed up to the verandah where he was reading.
"I say! here's a go. He thinks Richards has done it, and has written to Ogilvie to have him expelled."
"How do you know?"
"He told me himself."
"But Ogilvie has too much sense to expel him!"
"Of course, but there's worse, for old Barnes means to turn off his father. Nothing will persuade the old fellow that it wasn't his work, for he says that it must be a grammar-school boy."
"Does Dicky Bird guess?"
"Yes, but he's all right, as close as wax. He says he was sure no one but ourselves could have done it, for nobody else could have thought of such things or made them either."
"Then he has seen it?"
"Yes, and he was fit to kill himself with laughing, though his father and old Barnes were mad with rage and fury. His father believes him, but old Barnes believes neither of them, and swears his father shall go."
"We shall have to split on ourselves," elegantly observed Johnny.
"We had better tell Mother Carey. Hullo! here she is, inside the window."
"Didn't you know that," said Allen.
Therefore the boys, leaning and sprawling round her, half in and half out of the window, told the story, the triumph overcoming all compunction, as they described the morning raid, the successful scaling of the park-wall, the rush across the sward, the silence of the garden, the hoisting up of Allen to fasten on the ears, and the wonderful charms of the figure when it wore them and held a golden apple in its hand. "Right of Way," and "Let us in," had been written in black on all the pedestals.
"It is a peculiar way of recommending your admission," said Caroline.
"That's Rob's doing," said Allen. "I couldn't look after him while I was gilding the apple or I would have stopped him. He half blacked the little boy on the swan too--"
"And broke the swan's bill off, worse luck," added Johnny.
"Yes," said Allen, "that was altogether low and unlucky! I meant the old fellow simply to have thought that his statue had grown a pair of ears in the night."
"And what would have been the use of that?" said Robin.
"What was the use of all your scrawling," said Allen, "except just to show it was not the natural development of statues."
"Yes," added Bobus, "it all came of you that poor Dickey Bird is suspected and it is all blown up."
"As if he would have thought it was done by nobody," said Rob.
"Why not?" said Jock. "I'm sure I'd never wonder to see ass's ears growing on you. I think they are coming."
There was a shout of laughter as Rob hastily put up his hands to feel for them, adding in his slow, gruff voice-"A statue ain't alive."
"It made a fool of the whole matter," proceeded Bobus. "I wish we'd kept a lout like you out of it."
"Hush, hush, Bobus," put in his mother, "no matter about that. The question is what is to be done about poor Mr. Richards and Alfred."
"Write a poetical letter," said Allen, beginning to extemporise in Hiawatha measure.
"O thou mighty man of money, Barnes, of Belforest, Esquire, Innocent is Alfred Richards; Innocent his honest father; Innocent as unborn baby Of development of Midas, Of the smearing of the Cupid, Of the fracture of the goose-bill, Of the writing of the mottoes. All the Brownlows of St. Kenelm's, From the Folly and from Kencroft. Robert, the aspiring soldier, Robert, too, the sucking chemist, John, the Skipjack full of mischief, John, the great originator, Allen, the-"
"Allen the uncommon gaby," broke in Bobus. "Come, don't waste time, something must be done."
"Yes, a rational letter must be written and signed by you all," said his mother. "The question is whether it would be better to do it through your uncle or Mr. Ogilvie."
"I don't see why my father should hear of it, or Mr. Ogilvie either," growled Rob. "I didn't do those donkeyfied ears."
"You did the writing, which was five hundred times more donkeyfied," said Jock.
"It is quite impossible to keep either of them in ignorance," said Caroline.
"Yes," repeated all her own three; Jock adding "Father would have known it as soon as you, and I don't see that my uncle is much worse."
"He ain't so soft," exclaimed Johnny, roused to loyal defence of his parent.
"Soft!" cried Jock, indignantly; "I can tell you father did pitch into me when I caught the old lady's bonnet out at the window with a fishing-rod."
"He never flogged you," said Johnny contemptuously.
"He did!" cried Jock, triumphantly. "At least he flogged Bobus, when-"
"Shut up, you little ape," thundered Bobus, not choosing to be offered up to the manes of his father's discipline.
"You think you must explain it to my uncle, mother," said Allen, rather ruefully.
"Certainly. He ought to be told first, and Mr. Ogilvie next. Depend upon it, he will be far less angry if it is freely confessed and put into his hands and what is more important, Mr. Barnes must attend to him, and acquit the Richardses."
The general voice agreed, but Rob writhed and muttered, "Can't you be the one to tell him, Mother Carey?"
"That's cool," said Allen, "to ask her to do what you're afraid of."
"He couldn't do anything to her," said Rob.
However, public opinion went against Rob, and the party of boys dragged him off in their train the less reluctantly that Allen would be spokesman, and he always got on well with his uncle. No one could tell how it was, but the boy had a frank manner, with a sort of address in the manner of narration, that always went far to disarm displeasure, and protected his comrades as well as himself. So it was that, instead of meeting with unmitigated wrath, the boys found that they were allowed the honours and graces of voluntary confession. Allen even thought that his uncle showed a little veiled appreciation of the joke, but this was not deemed possible by the rest.
To exonerate young Richards was the first requisite, and Allen, under his uncle's eye, drew up a brief note to this effect:-
"SIR,-We beg to apologise for the mischief done in your grounds, and to assure you on our word and honour that it was suggested by no one, that no one admitted us, and no one had any share in it except ourselves. "ALLEN BROWNLOW. "ROBERT FRIAR BROWNLOW. "ROBERT OTWAY BROWNLOW. "JOHN FRIAR BROWNLOW. "JOHN LUCAS BROWNLOW."
This letter was taken up the next morning to Belforest by Colonel Brownlow, and the two eldest delinquents, one, curious, amused, and with only compunction enough to flavour an apology, the other cross, dogged, and sheepish, dragged along like a cur in a sling, "just as though he were going to be hanged," said Janet.
The report of the expedition as given by Allen was thus:-"The servant showed us into a sort of anteroom, and said he would see whether his master would see us. Uncle Robert sent in his card and my letter, and we waited with the door open, and a great screen in front, so that we couldn't help hearing every word. First there was a great snarl, and then a deferential voice, 'This alters the case, sir.' But the old man swore down in his throat that he didn't care for Colonel Brownlow or Colonel anybody. 'A gentleman, sir; one of the most respected.' 'Then he should bring up his family better.' 'Indeed, sir, it might be better to accept the apology. This might not be considered actionable damage.' 'We'll see that!' 'Indeed, don't you agree with me, Mr. Richards, the magistrates would hardly entertain the case.' 'Then I'll appeal; I'll send a representation to the Home Office.' 'Is it not to be considered, sir, whether some of these low papers might not put it in a ludicrous light?' Then," continued Allen, who had been most dramatically mimicking the two voices, "we heard a crackling as if he were opening my letter, and after an odd noise or two he sent to call us in to where he was sitting with Richards, and the attorney he had got to prosecute us. He is a regular old wizened stick, the perfect image of an old miser; almost hump-backed, and as yellow as a mummy. He looked just ready to bite off our heads, but he was amazingly set on finding out which was which among us, and seemed uncommonly struck with my name and Bobus's. My uncle told him I was called after your father, and he made a snarl just like a dog over a bone. He ended with, 'So you are Allen Brownlow! You'll remember this day's work, youngster.' I humbly said I should, and so the matter ended."