Oscar reached Rosemount all out of breath.  He rushed up the steps, ran to his bed-room, took out his portfolio, threw himself on a seat before the table, and wrote the following, sobbing more and more as he went on:—­

DEAR AUNTY,—­I want your help.  Something has happened that may have very unpleasant consequences, and you are the only person that can help me; you will know how.  I really did mean to be careful, just as my father bade me, and not do anything out of the way, and particularly not make a noise.  You will not think that I did wrong to select the best of the mottoes.  You know you said yourself that though we had no tyrants ourselves, yet, where there were any, it was a splendid verse.  I cannot explain it all exactly, but we were taken by surprise in the middle of a perfectly harmless meeting.  We succeeded in escaping, but I think perhaps we shall be prosecuted; and if my name comes out, they may write to papa from the court of justice here, and that would be horrible.  You will stand by me, won’t you, dear aunty?  If a letter should come to my father, couldn’t you get hold of it and read it and answer it yourself, without letting him know?  You can explain to the gentlemen that we were only having a little Swiss celebration just among ourselves.  Pray do help me, and not let the story get out.  I hope you will write to-morrow and tell us to come home.  We have been away long enough.  I am sure papa and mamma would be glad, for we cannot do our lessons nicely here, at all.  Everything is far better at home; things are better arranged, and the amusements are a great deal better.  Do write to us to come home directly; and tell me too that you have done what I ask about the letter to papa.  Best love, dearest aunty,

     From your loving nephew,

     OSCAR.

The letter was folded in haste, and the address quickly added; and the writer ran with all his might to the post-office, a short distance from the house.  He had to hurry, for it was nearly supper-time.  As he came tearing along into the court-yard at Rosemount, on his return, he started back; for there stood one of the men in uniform, with the deserted banner in his hand.  He was waiting to be let in.  The door opened.  He entered.  Oscar drew back behind a great oak-tree.  His heart beat like a trip-hammer.  What was going on inside there?  Mrs. Stanhope would know now all about it!  What would she think of him after this!  Perhaps she would send them all home with a letter of complaint to their father!  His heart beat louder and louder.  Perhaps the man came to fetch him to be punished and imprisoned.  Had he broken some law when he had the hole dug in front of the mill, when there was nothing but short grass there?  Oh, if he had only followed his father’s advice, and not tried to do anything in this strange country without leave!  All these anxious thoughts ran through Oscar’s head, and the longer that dreadful man stayed, the more alarmed he grew.