believe you can do anything."

For Cuthbert, with unholy glee, foresaw William's undoing.

"Oh, William," pleaded Joan, "_I know_ you're brave, but don't----"

But William was already doing it. They saw his disappearance into the
little window, they heard plainly his descent down the coal heap
inside, and in less than a minute he appeared in the doorway. He was
almost unrecognisable. Coal dust adhered freely to the moist
consistency of the mud and lichen already clinging to his suit, as
well as to his hair and face. His collar had been almost torn away
from its stud. William himself was smiling proudly, utterly
unconscious of his appearance. Joan was plainly wavering between
horror and admiration. Then the moment for which Cuthbert had longed
arrived.

"Children! come in now!"

Cuthbert, clean and dainty, entered the drawing-room first and pointed
an accusing finger at the strange figure which followed.

"He'th been climbing treeth an' crawling in the mud, an' rolling down
the coalth. He'th a nathty rough boy."

A wild babel arose as William entered.

"_William!_"

"You _dreadful_ boy!"