Rupert, it may be remarked, had kept stubborn hold of the sword all through this adventure, in which, for the rest, he had seen nothing at all remarkable. But he was a politic as well as an obstinate baby, and he now executed a diplomatic stroke which would have done credit to an older head. 'See what I dot, buzzer,' he said, as he and Maurice followed their mother towards the castle. He held up a cluster of acorns. 'Oh, how did you get them?' 'Dey fall on ze g'ound; dey very pooty!' 'I wish I had found some. I have always wanted some.' 'I give 'ou dese, if 'ou say I keep de s'oard,' said the diplomatist, hazarding his stroke. 'Oh, have you the sword still? I had forgot it. Well, I cannot give you the sword, because mother gave it to me; but if you will give me the acorns, you shall keep the sword till I want it.' 'Well, I keep de s'oard,' said Rupert, as he handed over the acorns. And it is to be feared that he added a mental rider to the effect that he would himself be the judge of the time when his brother should want it back again. Lady Kildhurm, turning at the castle gate, saw the acorns in Maurice's grasp. 'Thou shouldst not have brought them, son,' she said nervously. 'Thou knowest we do not use to touch the fruit of the Oak. Run back and put them again where thou didst find them.' 'No, mother,' said Maurice, 'let me keep them. This is my birthday, and the Oak has given me these for a birthday gift.' 'Yes, muzzer, he keep'em,' put in Rupert who perceived that, if his brother was deprived of the acorns, his own possession of the sword might be thereby endangered. And the mother yielded, having no very valid arguments on her side, and being, besides, unwilling to cross the little heir on his birthday. It was destiny, no doubt--destiny that would have fulfilled itself in some other way, if not in this. No outcry of child or demon disturbed Lady Kildhurm that night, after she had kissed the two boys in their cribs and bidden them farewell. Her sleep was peaceful and dreamless; but Maurice slept more soundly yet, and never woke in this world. It was afterwards discovered that he had taken his acorns to bed with him; and the inference was that he must have eaten one of them, and that it had poisoned him. At all events, the Oak of Kildhurm had claimed and taken its first victim; and Master Rupert was free to keep the sword. CHAPTER VII. THE OAK BIDES ITS TIME.