Tommy looked up into Mr. McLean’s face, but could get no guidance from it, so he said nothing; he only held his head higher than ever.  “Oh, the clever little curse!” cried Corp, and Elspeth’s delight was as ecstatic, though differently worded.  Yet Gavinia stuck to her problem, “How did you do it, what was it you did?” and the cruel McLean said:  “You may tell her, Tommy; you have my permission.”

It would have been an awkward position for most boys, and even Tommy—­but next moment he said, quite coolly:  “I think you and me and Miss Ailie should keep it to oursels, Gavinia’s sic a gossip.”

“Oh, how thoughtful of him!” cried Miss Ailie, the deceived, and McLean said:  “How very thoughtful!” but now he saw in a flash why Mr. Cathro still had hopes that Tommy might carry a bursary.

Thus was the repentant McLean pardoned, and nothing remained for him to do save to show the crew his Lair, which they had sworn to destroy.  He had behaved so splendidly that they had forgotten almost that they were the emissaries of justice, but not to destroy the Lair seemed a pity, it would be such a striking way of bringing their adventures in the Den to a close.  The degenerate Stuart read this feeling in their faces, and he was ready, he said, to show them his Lair if they would first point it out to him; but here was a difficulty, for how could they do that?  For a moment it seemed as if the negotiations must fall through; but Sandys, that captain of resource, invited McLean to step aside for a private conference, and when they rejoined the others McLean said, gravely, that he now remembered where the Lair was and would guide them to it.

They had only to cross a plank, invisible in the mist until they were close to it, and climb a slippery bank strewn with fallen trees.  McLean, with a mock serious air, led the way, Miss Ailie on his arm.  Corp and Gavinia followed, weighted and hampered by their new half-crowns, and Tommy and Elspeth, in the rear, whispered joyously of the coming life.  And so, very unprepared for it, they moved toward the tragedy of the night.

CHAPTER XXXI

A LETTER TO GOD

“Do you keep a light burning in the Lair?” McLean turned to ask, forgetting for the moment that it was not their domicile, but his.

“No, there’s no light,” replied Corp, equally forgetful, but even as he spoke he stopped so suddenly that Elspeth struck against him.  For he had seen a light.  “This is queer!” he cried, and both he and Gavinia fell back in consternation.  McLean pushed forward alone, and was back in a trice, with a new expression on his face.  “Are you playing some trick on me?” he demanded suspiciously of Tommy.  “There is some one there; I almost ran against a pair of blazing eyes.”

“But there’s nobody; there can be nobody there,” answered Tommy, in a bewilderment that was obviously unfeigned, “unless—­unless—­” He looked at Corp, and the eyes of both finished the sentence.  The desolate scene at Double Dykes, which the meeting with McLean and Miss Ailie had driven from their minds, again confronted them, and they seemed once more to hear the whimpering of the Painted Lady’s door.