One fine day in autumn, Ru strayed away to the sheep-folds; he often visited them, to have some fun with Jep--to run races with him over the downs, or hunt for squirrels and dormice in the old plantation. Then, hard by this miniature wood, there were some old ruins, with a wonderful echo chamber, where all they uttered was wafted hither and thither as by many weird voices. This was a never-failing source of amusement to them. More than once they had decoyed Jep's father across the downs thereby, thinking he was called, and that urgently. On that day John Sharp was elsewhere; only Jep and Nip, their dog, were left in trust. "Let's go and have a round with the old echoes this morning, Jep," proposed the young gentleman, a merry twinkle in his eyes. "Nay, Master Ru, I must mind the sheep." "Pooh! what minding do they want, gorging themselves with clover as they are?" "Ay, that's where 'tis, Master Ru; father's afraid they'll gorge too much; he's told me to watch 'em." "Well, and what will watching do?" "I must turn 'em into t'other fold in an hour's time--see, he gave me his watch to reckon by," and Jep held up a bumping, old-fashioned ticker, in his pride of possession. "Well, an hour is a long time; we could have lots of fun in an hour." Ah! there was mighty persuasion in the boy's tone and dark, handsome face, and Jep, like many another before, faltered between duty and his love of fun. "Come, your father need never know." It was very plausible, all that Master Ru said that morning, and Jep never divined the half of what lay in the depths of his prankish, perhaps deceitful, heart. He hung the watch on a hurdle stake, lest he might smash it in his games, by the side of Nip, sitting a pattern of fidelity and wary watchfulness there; then he accompanied his companion up the sunny hillside, and away to the ruins. Who could estimate the length of an hour, amid the excitement of fun and frolics? Not those two lads. Oh! high revel they held that morning; and when the echoes in the weird old chamber seemed furious at the noise they made, what did Ru do but step outside, shoot the rusty springbolt across the door, thus shutting in poor Jep. "Upon my word I didn't half intend it," he protested; then Jep cried, with sudden compunction, "Oh! master Ru, how could ye; and the sheep there feedin' and feedin'? What shall I do? "Do--why climb out of the window, like a man of sense," returned the other with selfish coolness. "You know I can't do it--I'd break my neck." "Nonsense! try it on."