THE GIANT OF THE TREASURE CAVES.

(Concluded from page 371.)

The children did not notice that Estelle had slipped away. She had caught a glimpse of Peet at his work, looking gloomier and more surly than ever.

'Peet,' she said, running up to him with a sunny smile and a hand held out, 'how are you? Dick is looking better, I think, and Mrs. Peet was as nice and as well as ever. She gave me such a welcome yesterday, and said she was so glad to see me. It is lovely to see you all again.'

'Welcome back, Miss,' returned Peet, taking the little hand shyly. 'I am not one to talk, but I am right glad to set eyes on you.'

'Thank you, Peet. But there is one thing that I do not feel happy about, and that is dear Aunt Betty. How different she seems—not half so strong as she used to be!'

'No, Miss, she is not. She has been ill with losing you. We did miss you sore, Miss.'

'It's nice of you to say so. But is it not wonderful that Jack should have picked me up when I fell into the sea? It was high tide, you know, and I was swept out so far I should have been drowned but for him. He took me home, and both he and his mother were so good to me.'

She told him the story which she had already related once that morning, dwelling especially on Jack's gallant rescue.

'Oh, Peet, he is such a good fellow,' she went on, 'so kind to every one, and so good to his mother! As to her, she is just the best mother possible. Peet, do you know Jack—have you spoken to him?'

She was anxious to know if Jack had had his interview; from Peet's manner she feared he had not, or that something was wrong.

'Why should I speak to him?' asked the gardener, in his most forbidding tones.

'Because Dick has,' she ventured, scarcely knowing how to say more in Peet's surly mood.

'Dick and I are two different persons, Miss.'

'Yes,' said Estelle, softly, 'Dick is a—is very near Heaven, Aunt Betty says. Peet, I think it is worse for the man who has done the wrong.'

'Do you, Miss? Well, I can't see it. It's not my way of thinking, anyhow.'

'It would be,' said Estelle, taking her courage in both hands, 'if you believed in forgiveness at all. Auntie told us what a hard time you had with Dick's illness,' continued Estelle, as Peet's face had not relented, 'but you are all right now. Jack has had a hard time too, because he was so dreadfully sorry for the wrong he had done. But it is not all right with him, and he says it never will be, because he cannot undo the harm.'

'No, he can't,' replied Peet, grimly.

'Well,' said Estelle, with a sigh, 'I am glad he has Dick's forgiveness, and that Dick called him his friend. Jack felt that more than anything. He said it was like coals of fire on his head.'

Seeing Peet made no attempt to reply, but continued his work as if the subject were ended, Estelle sighed again, and went slowly back to join the others, who were crossing the lawn with Jack, on their way to the Bridge House, where he was to say good-bye to Dick.

'Oh, Jack,' cried Georgie, 'Estelle says you sing so beautifully! Will you sing to Dick? He loves music, and some day I shall buy him a barrel-organ to play to him always.'

Jack shook his head. 'He won't care to hear me, Master George.'

But Georgie was so sure Dick would care, that he ran on ahead of the party to ask him. As the rest came up, Mrs. Peet was at the door to receive them. She looked into Jack's face and held out her hand.

'For his sake!' she said, motioning with her head towards her son. 'I can't go against his wishes.'

Grasping her hand in his big palms, Jack could only murmur gratefully, 'Thank you.' The next moment he had been seized upon by Georgie, and dragged to Dick's chair to sing. Turning very red, he said he did not know if he could trust his voice. Mrs. Peet, however, urging her son's fondness for music, begged him to give them something. Against such an appeal Jack could make no resistance. He sang as he had never sung before. Dick's eyes never left his face, and when Jack rose to go, Dick shook his hands with a world of feeling and pardon in eyes and clasp.

There had been one listener unseen by all, who stood with bowed head, leaning heavily on the gate of the porch. Perhaps it was Aunt Betty's gentle pleadings which had fallen like the 'gentle rain from heaven' upon his hard temper, preparing the ground for Estelle's soft words on behalf of Jack. Perhaps it was that his own better nature had asserted itself when all outside arguments had failed, and made him see how 'to err is human, to forgive divine.' Peet waited there in front of his house; and when Jack's voice came to him through the half-closed door in the concluding words of the last song, he understood dimly, in his own fashion, that no one could have sung in that way who had not known what real suffering was.

As Jack came out of the little garden, Peet stood in front of him, grim and determined, though there were wrinkles about his eyes. They showed how severe the pain and struggle were. Holding out his hand, he muttered gruffly, 'He is pretty near a saint, he is,' nodding towards the house, 'and I would not like to be shut out from where he goes. So we will just let bygones be bygones. There's my hand on it, if you will take it in the same spirit.'

Jack grasped the proffered hand with a mighty grip. His heart was full.

'Let it be how you please,' he said, in eager gratitude, 'so long as you do forgive me. I am more thankful than I am able to say for the kindness and forgiveness which have been shown me. But do not think that I shall ever forget the past, or cease to feel the most bitter sorrow for what I have done.'

Peet returned the pressure of his hand with a little more warmth, and Estelle thought his face was softer.

There was no time for more words. The children rushed out to pursue Jack. Mrs. Peet, even with Estelle's assistance, could no longer restrain them.

Jack must say good-bye to Aunt Betty, and have a word with the Earl. As they all walked up the Park together, the sailor told them that Lord Lynwood had asked him to persuade Mrs. Wright to come to Tyre-cum-Widcombe. He would give her a little cottage, a pretty garden, and would see that she wanted for nothing all her life. Jack himself was offered a permanent berth on Lord Lynwood's own yacht. A shout of delight greeted this announcement. Estelle was full of joy.

'We shall see you and dear Goody very often,' she cried, with sparkling eyes. 'Oh, won't we make you both happy!'

The other children echoed her delight.

'I have a great plan,' went on Estelle, dancing along gleefully, 'and I know it will simply send everybody wild with joy.'

'What is it?' asked Alan, eagerly. 'As long as it does not take you away, I don't mind.'

'I think I can persuade Father to take us all in his yacht, and we will bring Goody here ourselves.'

This proposal did indeed send the children wild. Not a word could Jack get in edgewise for several minutes.

'You are sure she will come?' asked Estelle.

'I think she will,' said Jack, smiling. 'She will never be happy away from our little Missie.'

"'Have you spoken to Jack?'"

The End.

"I struck furiously at the brute."