‘I set the down on fire for a little fun. I drove the ponies along this lane; and see, I have disturbed a pair of ring-doves as well. I won’t hoot any more; but—coo! coo! coo!’ He ran away, but stopped every now and then and sent back to them his insulting imitations of the call of wood-pigeons—’Coo! coo! coo!’ CHAPTER XXXV. THE ALARM BELL. NEXT morning Barbara entered the hall after having seen about the duties of the house, ordered dinner, weighed out spices and groats, made the under-servant do the work of Jane, who was absent; she moved about her usual duties with her usual precision and order, but without her usual composure. When she came into the hall on her way to her father’s room, she found Eve there engaged and hard at work on some engrossing occupation. ‘Oh, Bab! do come and see how bright and beautiful I am making this,’ said the girl in overflowing spirits and pride. ‘I found it in the chest in the garret, and I am furbishing it up.’ She held out a sort of necklace or oriental carcanet, composed of chains of gold beads and bezants. ‘It was so dull when I found it, and now it shines like pure gold!’ Her innocent, childish face was illumined with delight. ‘I am become really industrious.’ ‘Yes, dear; hard at work doing nothing.’ ‘I should like to wear this,’ she sighed. That she had deceived her sister, that she had given her occasion to be anxious about her, had quite passed from her mind, occupied only with glittering toys. Barbara hesitated at her father’s door. She knew that a painful scene awaited her. He was certain to be angry and reproach her for having disobeyed him. But her heart was relieved. She believed in the innocence of Jasper. Strengthened by this faith, she was bold to confront her father. She tapped at the door and entered. She saw at once that he had heard her voice without, and was expecting her. There was anger in his strange eyes, and a hectic colour in his hollow cheeks. He was partly dressed, and sat on the side of the bed. In his hand he held the stick with which he was wont to rap when he needed assistance. ‘Where are the clothes that lay on the floor last night?’ was his salutation, pointing with the stick to the spot whence Barbara had gathered them up. ‘They are gone, papa; I have taken them away.’ She looked him firmly in the face with her honest eyes, unwincing. He, however, was unable to meet her steadfast gaze. His eyes flickered and fell. His mouth was drawn and set with a hard, cruel expression, such as his face rarely wore; a look which sometimes formed, but was as quickly effaced by a wave of weakness. Now, however, the expression was fixed. ‘I forbade you to touch them. Did you hear me?’ ‘Yes, dear papa, I have disobeyed you, and I am sorry to have offended you; but I cannot say that I repent having taken the clothes away. I found them, and I had a right to remove them.’ ‘Bring them here immediately.’ ‘I cannot do so. I have destroyed them.’