The discomfited plotters were forced into a confession of all their deeds for the past few days, and a party headed by Mr. Fitz-Williams set out to scour the country for the missing boy. Then, contrite and woebegone, the evildoers slunk into their respective homes, there to receive what punishment their outraged parents should see fit to inflict.

It is not best to enter into details; it would be too[343] harrowing. It is sufficient to say that when their weary heads at length sought their pillows, sleep refused to come to their relief, and such a night of torture few of them ever passed.

“If it wouldn’t make us appear guiltier than we are,” Henry said, with feverishly bright eyes, “you and I would pack up, too, Will, and run away, and travel all around the world.”

As Henry did not deign to state how this might be accomplished, we are left to infer that he had an idea of a flying-machine in his mind.

Stephen and Charles wore out the night in wondering what they should do with themselves if sent to prison. The former resolved that he would undermine the prison foundations with his jack-knife, and make his escape to Robinson Crusoe’s island.

“There I shall spend my life,” he sighed heroically, “thinking of Marmaduke. Robinson lived alone twenty-eight years; I’m only sixteen, I shall probably live alone about sixty years, if the cannibals don’t catch me and eat me up.”

Poor dreamer! He was not sufficiently well versed in geography to know that Robinson Crusoe’s island is not now so desirable a place to play the hermit in as it was in the seventeenth century.

George, who was of an inquisitive disposition, finally left his bed, broke into the lumber-room of his ancestral home, and after diligent search, found a bulky tome, which, years before, had been consigned to that dreary region as being more learned than intelligible. This tome was entitled “Every Man his own Lawyer.”

With this prize he returned to his bedroom, muttering, “Now I shall see just what the law can do to us boys, and all about the whole business, and what we ought to do and say.”

After an hour’s careful study of this neglected “Mine of Wealth,” the Sage let it slip out of his hands, and tumbled into bed again, muttering: “Yes, one of us is guilty of the crime of arson. That is very clear. All of us are liable to be sent to prison. That is pretty clear.[344] As I make it out, the sentence ranges between six months and a hundred years. Which will the judge conclude we deserve, six or one hundred? Oh, well, it will be hideous to live in a prison at all, for there will be no books there!”

According to the Sage’s notions, the worst fate that could possibly overtake him would be to be deprived of his books.

“But, O dear,” he pursued, “I should be willing to give up all my books if Marmaduke could be found.”

Morning dawned on the reformed plotters with mocking serenity. There could be no enjoyment for them while such a cloud of mystery hung over their companion’s fate.

The searchers were not so successful on this occasion as when they used to rove over land and sea for Will and his companions; not the slightest clew to Marmaduke’s whereabouts being found.

The news of the preceding day’s doings was already known throughout the neighborhood, and the boys were spoken of in no flattering terms. Those villagers whose phraseology was refined, called them “whimsical juveniles, wise beyond their years;” while those villagers whose phraseology was terse and expressive, brutally gave them Greek and Japanese nick-names for the Evil One.

As the hour of dinner approached, a grim-visaged man, who looked like the descendant of a long line of executioners and muleteers, so grave and stern were his features, called on each one of the five boys who had had an interview with Mr. Stolz, and delivered to each one a formidable envelope that bore the impress of the Law, and a single glance at which was sufficient to freeze one’s blood. Having done this, the “minion of the law,” as the terrified boys supposed he was, left the village at a round pace, looking less and less grave with every step. Reader, this person was a bosom-friend of B. F. Stolz’s, disguised with a lawyer’s neck-tie, hat, and cane, or cudgel.

Fearfully the awe-inspiring seals were broken, and the legal missives were found to run as follows:

[345]

“Having observed a party of urchins prowling around my place up stream, and having, by the merest accident, learned the contents of a certain ‘letter’ written by a certain William, I was so long-headed as to put this and that together; and I resolved to make myself acquainted with what was going on. Accordingly, I watched, and waited, and hovered lovingly near you, when you knew it not. I discovered your plot. Last night I was hidden away up-stairs, within earshot, prepared to spring among you suddenly as a ghost, when I had an unexpected meeting with Jim. The rest I believe you know. Don’t be at all alarmed about the fire; Jim alone is responsible for that; I will take no further notice of the affair. I wished to punish you, however, and hit on this little plan. Whether I have succeeded or not, you yourselves know best. If you were kept awake by uneasiness last night as much as I was by laughter, I am more than indemnified for the loss of ‘Nobody’s House.’

“In the matter of Marmaduke, I believe he is keeping house in the big barn on the road to——. I have already notified his parents of this. To the Rescue, O ye Heroes!

“I have the honor, your excellencies, to sign myself your humble servant.

“B. F. Stolz.”

This Stolz was a remarkable man—almost a genius. Professionally ............