However, public opinion went against Rob, and the party of boys dragged him off in their train the less reluctantly that Allen would be spokesman, and he always got on well with his uncle. No one could tell how it was, but the boy had a frank manner, with a sort of address in the manner of narration, that always went far to disarm displeasure, and protected his comrades as well as himself. So it was that, instead of meeting with unmitigated wrath, the boys found that they were allowed the honours and graces of voluntary confession. Allen even thought that his uncle showed a little veiled appreciation of the joke, but this was not deemed possible by the rest. To exonerate young Richards was the first requisite, and Allen, under his uncle’s eye, drew up a brief note to this effect:-- “SIR,--We beg to apologise for the mischief done in your grounds, and to assure you on our word and honour that it was suggested by no one, that no one admitted us, and no one had any share in it except ourselves. “ALLEN BROWNLOW. “ROBERT FRIAR BROWNLOW. “ROBERT OTWAY BROWNLOW. “JOHN FRIAR BROWNLOW. “JOHN LUCAS BROWNLOW.” This letter was taken up the next morning to Belforest by Colonel Brownlow, and the two eldest delinquents, one, curious, amused, and with only compunction enough to flavour an apology, the other cross, dogged, and sheepish, dragged along like a cur in a sling, “just as though he were going to be hanged,” said Janet.