The Vast Abyss Part 96

And time went on, with Tom plunging more and more deeply into the grand science, and rapidly becoming his uncle's right-hand man, helping him with the papers he sent up to the learned societies, till in the course of a couple of years people began to talk of the discoveries made with the big telescope at Heatherleigh.

Then came a morning about two years and a half after the terrible storm.

Tom, who had not retired till three o'clock, for it had been a gloriously clear night, and he and his uncle had been busy for many hours over Saturn's satellites, which had been observed with unusual clearness, was sleeping soundly, when he was awakened by the sharp rattling of tiny pebbles against his window.

"Hulloo! what is it, David?" he cried, as he threw open his window.

"I told you so, sir; I told you so," cried the gardener. "I allus said how it would be."

"Some one been after the apples again?"

"Apples! no, sir; ten times worse than that. Pete's took."

"What?"

"Just heard it from our policeman, sir, who has been out all night.

Pete Warboys has been for long enough mixed up with the Sanding gang, and was out with them last night over at Brackenbury Park, when the keepers come upon them, and there was a fight. One of the keepers was shot in the legs, and two of the poachers was a good deal knocked about.

They were mastered, and four of 'em are in the lock-up."

"But you said Pete was taken."

"Yes, sir, he's one of 'em; and that arn't the worst of it."

"Then what is?"

"His dog flew at one of the keepers when they were holding Pete Warboys, and the man shot him dead."

"Poor wretch!" said Tom.

"Ay, I'm real sorry about that dog, sir. He was a hugly one surelie, but just think what a dog he'd ha' been if he'd been properly brought up."

The news was true enough; and fresh tidings came the very next day to Heatherleigh, Uncle Richard hearing that his brother had disposed of his practice, and gone to live down at Sandgate for his health.

Then, as the days glided by, the report came of examinations before the magistrates, which the Vicar attended.

"I went, Tom," he said, "because I was grieved about the young man, for I tried again and again to wean him from his life; but nothing could be done--everything was too black against him. He and the others have been committed for trial, and Pete is sure to be severely punished."

"Perhaps it will be for the best, Mr Maxted," said Tom. "It will be a very sharp lesson, and he may make a decent man after all."

"_Nil desperandum_," said the Vicar; "but I am afraid."

The trial came on, and Tom felt tempted to be present. It was not for the sake of seeing his old enemy in the dock, but out of interest in his fate, which on account of his youth resulted in the mildest sentence given to a prisoner that day; and as soon as he heard it p.r.o.nounced by the judge, Pete rather startled the court by shouting loudly to Tom, whom he had sat and watched all through--

"Good-bye, Master Tom; G.o.d bless yer!"

The next minute he was gone, and somehow the young astronomer went away back home feeling rather sad, though he could not have explained why.

It was about a month later that a legal-looking letter arrived, directed to him, beautifully written in the roundest and crabbiest of engrossing hands.

It was from Pringle, telling how, thanks to Uncle Richard's letter of recommendation, he was never so happy in his life, for he was in the best of offices, and had the best of masters, who was a real gentleman, with a wonderful knowledge of the law.

"You'd have taken to it, Mr Thomas, I'm sure, if you'd been under him; but one never knows, and it wasn't to tell you this that I've taken the liberty of writing to you. I suppose you know that your uncle sold his practice, but perhaps you don't know why. I heard all about it from the new man they had. I met him over a case my gov'nor was conducting. It was all along of Mr Samuel, who used to go on awfully. He got at last into a lot of trouble and went off. You'll never believe it; but it's a fact. He's 'listed in the Royal Artillery."

"And the best place for him," said Uncle Richard, frowning, when he read the letter in turn; "they will bring him to his senses. By the way, Tom, Professor Denniston is coming down to see our gla.s.s; he wants to make one himself double the size, and says he would like our advice."

"Our advice, uncle?" said Tom, laughing.

"Yes," said Uncle Richard seriously; "your advice, gained by long experience, will be as valuable as mine."

One more reminiscence of Tom Blount's country life, and we will leave him to his star-gazing, well on the high-road to making himself one of those quiet, retiring, scientific men of whom our country has such good cause to be proud.

Heatherleigh and its neighbourhood had been very peaceful for four years, and the word poacher had hardly been heard, when one day, as Tom was in the laboratory, he heard a sharp tapping being given at the yard gate with a stick, and going to the window he started, for there was a tall, dark, smart-looking artillery sergeant, standing looking up, ready to salute him as his face appeared.

"Cousin Sam!" mentally exclaimed Tom, and his face flushed.

"Beg pardon, sir; can I have a word with you?" came in a loud, decisive, military way.

"Why, it's Pete Warboys!" cried Tom. "Yes, all right; I'll come down,"

and he went below to where the sergeant stood, drawn up stiff, well set-up, and good-looking, waiting for the summons to enter.

"Yes, sir, it's me," said the stranger, smiling frankly.

"I shouldn't have known you, Pete."

"S'pose not, sir. They rubbed me down, and set me up, and the clothes make such a difference. Besides, it's over four years since you saw me."

"Yes--how time goes; but I did not know you had enlisted."

"No, sir; I never said anything. You see, I came out of prison, and I didn't want to come back here, for if I had, I couldn't ha' kept away from the rabbits and birds, and I should have been in trouble again.

You made me want to do better, sir, but I never seemed as if I could; and just then up comes a recruiting sergeant, just as I was hesitating, and I looked at him, and heard what he had to say, how the service would make a man of me."

"And you took the s.h.i.+lling, Pete?"

"Yes, sir; and the best day's work I ever did," said Pete, speaking sharply, decisively, and with a manly carriage about him that made Tom stare. "I was was bombardier in two years, and a month ago I got my sergeant's stripes."

He gave a proud glance at the chevrons on his arm as he spoke.

"I'm very glad, Pete."

"Thankye, sir. I knew you would be. You did it, sir."

"I?"

"Yes, sir. Mr Maxted used to talk to me, but it was seeing what you were set me thinking so much; but there was no way, and I got into trouble. I'm off to Malta, sir, in a month. On furlough now, and down here to see the old woman."

"Ah! She's very feeble now, Pete."

"Very, sir. She's awfully old; but she knew me directly, and began to blow me up."

"What for?"