"I did not," said Conrade, wrenching his hand away, and putting it
behind his back.

"Where's Hubert?" asked Rachel, looking round, and much vexed when
she perceived that Hubert had been within hearing all the time,
though to be sure there was some little hope to be founded upon the
simplicity of five years old.

"Come here, Hubert dear," said his mother; "don't be frightened, only
come and tell me where you and Con went yesterday, when the others
were playing at bowls." Hubert hung his head, and looked at his
brother.

"Tell," quoth Conrade. "Never mind her, she's only a civilian."

"Where did you go, Hubert?"

"Con showed me the little birds in their nest."

"That is right, Hubert, good little boy. Did you or he touch the
nest?"

"Yes." Then, as Conrade started, and looked fiercely at him, "Yes
you did, Con, you touched the inside to see what it was made of."

"But what did you do with it?" asked Rachel.

"Left it there, up in the tree," said the little boy.