CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
PREPARATIONS FOR FLIGHT.
The squire was very quiet over the evening meal, but he looked across at Dick very sternly two or three times, and the lad did not meet his eye.
For certain plans which he had been concerting with Tom wore so strange an aspect in his eyes that he felt quite guilty, and the old frank light in his face seemed to have died out as he bent down over his supper, and listened to his father's answers to his mother about the proceedings of the past day.
Bed-time at last, and for the first time since he had returned Dick was alone with his mother, the squire having gone to take his customary look round the house.
"Good-night, mother!" said Dick in a low sombre manner, very different to his usual way.
Mrs Winthorpe did not answer for a moment or two, but gazed full at her son.
"And so the magistrate thought you guilty, Dick ?" she said.
"Yes, mother," he flashed out, "and--" "Ah!" exclaimed Mrs Winthorpe, flinging her arms about his neck.
"That's my boy who spoke out then.

Dick, if you had spoken out like that to your father and everyone they would not have suspected you for a moment.

There, good-night! It will all come right at last." Dick said "good-night" to his father, who gave him a short nod, and then the lad went slowly up to his room, to sit on the edge of the bed and think of the possibility of building a hut out there in the island they had found in the fen, and then of how it would be if he and Tom did so, and went there to live; and when he had debated it well, he asked himself what would be the use, and confessed that it would be all nonsense, and that he had been thinking like a child.
"No," he said; "I'm no baby now.

All this has made a man of me, and Tom Tallington is right; we must go and begin life somewhere else--where the world will not be so hard." "He will not be here for an hour yet," he thought; so he employed himself very busily in putting together the few things he meant to take on his journey into that little-known place beyond the fen, where there were big towns, and people different to themselves; and as Dick packed his bundle he tried to keep back a weak tear or two which would gather as if to drop on the lavender-scented linen, that reminded him of her who had that night called him her boy.
But there was a stubborn feeling upon him which made him viciously knot together the handkerchief ends of his bundle, and then go and stand at the window and watch and listen for the coming of Tom.
For he had made up his mind to go with Tom if he came, without him if he failed, for he told himself the world elsewhere would not be so hard.
One hour--two hours passed.

He heard them strike on the old eight-day clock below.