The gardener was right. The fight was a lesson for the boys, who kept
at a distance from me, during the next few days, while our scratches and
bruises grew faint and began to heal.
We had expected they would have been off to school; but for some reason,
illness I believe, the holidays were extended for a month, and so they
stayed, but I was pretty well left in peace.
My first hint of Sir Francis' return was given by that gentleman
himself, who came upon me suddenly as I was busy in the peach-house. I
was painting away at the branches that had become infected with a
tiresome kind of blight, when I heard a sharp quick step behind me, and
my heart quailed, for I felt that it was Sir Francis about to take me to
task for my encounter with his sons.
I kept busily on with my work, in the faint, hope that he might pass me
and say nothing, but he stopped short, and looked on as I busied myself
with my brush and the poisonous decoction that was to kill the insects.
I was in agony, for I felt that he was looking me through and through,
and when he did speak at last I gave quite a jump.
"Hah!" he exclaimed, "rather hard upon the insects. Well, Grant, how
are you getting on?"
"Very well, Sir Francis, I think," I said.
"Seen any more of that boy?"
"Yes, Sir Francis," I said, colouring.
"Climbed up the wall, has he?"
"I don't know, Sir Francis," I replied; "but he has got into the garden
lately."
"That's right, my lad, be frank," he said. "I know he has got into the
garden. I caught my young gentleman and took him to task. He says he
came because you were here."
"I'm afraid that is why he did come, Sir Francis," I said.
"Did you tell him to come?"
"No, Sir Francis. We were never very friendly."
"Ho!" he said, and he walked on looking at the peaches for a few
minutes, and then went away, leaving me to wipe the cold perspiration
off my forehead, for I had fully expected a severe scolding.
I finished my task in the peach-house, and then went to see how the
celery was getting on, for I found that when Mr Solomon gave me a task
he expected me to continue to watch, whatever it was.
"So that I may feel that when I have put anything in your hands it will
be properly done," he said more than once; so, feeling that I was
responsible for the success of the celery plants, I was on my way to the
bottom garden by the pond, thinking of the encounter I had when I was
busy watering there that day, when, as I turned down one of the alleys
of the garden, I saw a man in the distance digging up a piece of ground
with a broad spade, and turning over the soil in that easy regular way,
levelling it as he went, that experienced gardeners acquire.