"I've smoked thousands," he told her. "And a pipe, too, for that matter. I smoked a cigar once. I found it and smoked it right through." "Didn't it make you ill?" "Yes--fearfully; but I hid till I was all right again." He smoked a cigarette, and Estelle told him that his father was a great smoker and very fond of a pipe. "But he wouldn't let you smoke, except now and again in holiday times--not yet. Nobody ought to smoke till he's done growing." "What about you, then?" asked Abel. "I've done growing ages ago. I'm nearly twenty-eight." He looked at her and his eyes clouded. He entered a phase of reserve. Then she, guessing how to enchant him, suggested the next step. "If you help me pack up now, we'll harness the pony and go down to West Haven for a bit. I want to see the old stores I've heard such a lot about. You must show them to me." "Yes--part. I know every inch of them, but I can't show you my own secret den, though." "Do. I should love to see it." He shook his head. "No good asking," he said. "That's my greatest secret. You can't expect me to tell you. Even mother doesn't know." "I won't ask, then. I've got a den, too, for that matter--in fact, two. One on North Hill and one in our garden." "D'you know the lime-kiln on North Hill?" "Rather. The bee orchis grows thereabout." He thought for a moment. "If I showed you my den in the store, would you swear to God never to tell?" "Yes, I'd swear faithfully not to." "Perhaps I will, then." But when presently they reached his haunt, he had changed his mood. She did not remind him, left him to his devices and sat patiently outside while he was hidden within. Occasionally his head popped out of unexpected places aloft, then disappeared again. Once she heard a great noise, followed by silence. She called to him and, after a pause, he shouted down that he was all right. When an hour had passed she called out again to tell him to come back to her. "We're going to Bridport to tea," she said. He came immediately and revealed a badly torn trouser leg. "I fell," he explained. "I fell through a rotten ceiling, and I've cut my leg. When I was young the sight of blood made me go fainty, but I laugh at it now." He pulled up his trousers and showed a badly barked shin. "We'll go to a chemist and get him to wash it, and I'll get a needle and thread and sew it up," said Estelle. She condoled with him as they drove to Bridport, but he was impatient of sympathy. "I don't mind pain," he said. "I've tried the Red Indian tests on myself before to-day. Once I had to see a doctor after; but I didn't flinch when I was doing it." A chemist dressed the wounded leg and presently they arrived at 'The Seven Stars,' where the pony was stabled and tea taken in the garden. Mrs. Legg provided a needle and thread and produced a very excellent tea. Abel enjoyed the swing for some time, but would not let Estelle help him. "I can swing myself," he said, "but I'll swing you afterwards."