"And here we are, my lad, in an hour from the first alarm. There’s quick work for you. But I’m glad ’tis no worse than a brush with smugglers. ’Twas a false alarm, my lads," he added, turning to his men. "Boney has thought better of it. Didn’t care to tackle us Dorset men. You can get back and sleep sound. Now Jack, you’ll come with me to the Grange. Arthur told me he’d seen you—the young rascal, stealing out at dead of night! But a good plucked ’un too, eh, Jack?" "A chip of the old block, cousin. Just the sort of fellow we middies like." "And that villain De Fronsac, now! What of him?" "He’s dead, cousin," said Jack gravely. "Ha! He’s got his deserts. The villain, playing his double game for eighteen months in my house! And his humbug about the Monster, too. It makes me red in the face when I think of it. But you must tell me all about it when we get home." They found the Grange almost in a state of siege. The windows were close-shuttered, the doors were double locked, and when Mr. Bastable rapped, the voice of old William, the gardener, was heard, threatening in accents of unmistakable terror that he’d b-blow out the b-b-brains of any Frenchman with his b-b-blunderbuss. When admittance was obtained, shrieks were heard from the top of the house. "The maids in hysterics!" growled the squire. "Here, Molly and Betty," he shouted, "don’t be a couple of geese. ’Tis not Boney—’tis Master Jack!" A door above flew open; Kate and Arthur came bounding down the stairs, with Mrs. Bastable a pace or two behind them. "Lawk a mussy! Only to think o’t, now!" giggled Molly above. "Measter Jack! Well, I never did!" Kate impulsively threw her arms round Jack’s neck and kissed him heartily. A middy is not easily taken by surprise, but Jack was only just in time to return the kiss before Mrs. Bastable came and encircled him. "My dear boy, this is delightful." "So it is, cousin—if it wasn’t so smothery!" "Mothery!" shouted the squire in high good humor. "Now, you’ll come along to my den and tell me all about everything that’s happened since you were kidnapped by those villains, confound them!" "But my dear Humfrey, Jack looks dead-beat." "We’ll cure that by any by. The fire isn’t out; we’ll make it up; and I’m sure you women won’t sleep a wink till you’ve heard the story." "Hurray!" shouted Arthur, capering. So they trooped into the snuggery, and there Jack, fortified with a glass of hot cordial brought by Molly, related his adventures from the time when he was carried to France against his will. "There are two things I can’t make out," he said in conclusion. "One is, how Gudgeon is mixed up in this. ’Twas his boat, I’m sure, that carried me in the tub to the lugger; and he drove to Gumley’s the other night to hear what had been done. Where does he come in, cousin?" Mr. Bastable laughed a little awkwardly. "Go to bed, Arthur," he said. "I know, father," said the boy, grinning.