The boys had seized the opportunity of the attention of their elders being engaged elsewhere to get into mischief. Although they had made so much fuss about their right of way to school, it was not the only way they used. They had, in fact, several ways. One was by train to Baskerton, a village on the river five miles away, and thence, by lanes and the parks, home. This, however, required time and the absence of authorities. Another way was through Easton and the parks, up the course of the little stream, which at one point nearly touched the Court gardens. In this stream, its shallow waters splashing up against their ankles, the boys were walking, and the baby was prancing between them.
"Should we take Barbe with us?" David had asked, pausing on the Green.
The boys reconnoitred, and the piercing whistle, which set the baby all a-quiver with expectation, sounded through the garden.
"There then, go!" said nurse somewhat crossly, as Barbe began to stamp; and she went. Her education was proceeding apace. Her father sometimes listened aghast at the things which, in her baby prattle, she reported herself to have done.
"See, Barbe, there's a rat!" Sandy said eagerly, as a flop and a splash made them jump. "See, it's swimmin' away."
"'Wimmin' away," said the baby, stooping to look, her two hands on her two knees, and the front of her frock sailing on the water before her.
"Oh, Barbe, you're all wet!" David said, as they landed, and strolled up the field.
"Wet!" she echoed delightedly. "Foots--f'ock!"
"I know," said Sandy cheerfully; "we'll dry you by the Bishop's fire--almost sure to be a fire."
But the study window, to which they crept warily by sheltered ways, was shut. The Bishop was absent.
"I know where there's a fire," Sandy said. "Was this morning, 'cos of that lead. Let's take her to the little room."
Again they slipped by leafy ways out of the Palace garden into the cathedral yard. The baby's wet skirts flopped round her, and David lifted her into his arms.
The approach of Mrs. Lytchett, returning from the Deanery in unwonted bravery of attire, prompted them to seek refuge behind a tomb. Here it took the boys' whole attention to prevent Barbe's chatter drawing unwished-for notice upon them.