On the whole, they were rather disappointed that more mischief had not been done. The burning of the mill, for instance, or its crumbling down, would have made the affair more exciting, whereas there were some broken windows to look at, and that was all.

Meanwhile the scientific people had adjourned to the cottage, where warm water and clothes-brushes did a good deal to restore them to their former state, while a cup of tea hurriedly prepared by Mrs Fidler did something toward soothing their shattered nerves.

"But really, sir, I think you ought to let me send over to Buildston for Doctor Ranson."

"Not for me, Mrs Fidler," said Uncle Richard. "I've been a good deal shaken, and my ears are full of a sharp singing sound, but I'm rapidly coming round. Send for him to see Mr Maxted."

"Oh dear me, no. I'm very much better," said the Vicar. "I was very much frightened, and I have a lump on the back of my head, but that is all. You had better send for him, I think, to see Master Tom here."

"I don't want any doctor," exclaimed Tom. "Mrs Fidler could put me right."

"Yes, my dear," cried the housekeeper; "but you never will let me."

"Well, who's going to take prune tea or brimstone and treacle because he has been knocked down?"

"There, Mrs Fidler, you hear," said Uncle Richard; "we have had a narrow escape, but I don't think any of us are much the worse. We only want rest. Take the couch, Maxted, and lie down."

"Well--er--really," said the Vicar; "if you will not think it selfish of me, I believe it would do my head good if I lay down for an hour. I am a good deal shaken."

Mrs Fidler sighed and left the room as the Vicar took the couch, Uncle Richard one easy-chair, and Tom the other, to lie back and listen to the murmur of voices out in the lane, where the village people were still discussing the startling affair. Every now and then some excited personage raised his voice, and a word or two floated through the window about "lightning," and "heared it," and "mussy no one was killed."

Uncle Richard was the first to break the silence by saying dryly--

"I'm afraid Mrs Fidler does not believe in the thunder and lightning theory."

"No?" said the Vicar, turning his head.

"No," said Uncle Richard, smiling, but wincing at the same time; "she has had experience of me before in my dabblings in other things. What do you say was the cause of the trouble, Tom?"

"Well, I should say, uncle, that the silver was too strong for the gla.s.s, and made it split all to pieces."

"Not a bad theory," said Uncle Richard. "What do you say, Maxted?"

"Well," said the Vicar, "do you know, I'm puzzled. Of course it was not an electric shock, and my knowledge of chemistry is so very shallow; but really and truly, I feel convinced, that you must have got hold of wrong chemicals, and formed some new and dangerous explosive compound."

"Quite right, only it was not new," said Uncle Richard. "As soon as I could collect my shattered thinking powers, I began to consider about what I had done, and I think I see correctly now. The fact is, I forgot one very important part of the instructions I have for silvering mirrors."

"Indeed!" said the Vicar, in an inquiring tone, while Tom p.r.i.c.ked up his singing ears.

"Yes," said Uncle Richard. "You remember how the silvery surface was covered with a greyish powder?"

"Yes, thickly," said Tom.

"That had no business there, and it would not have been if I had been more careful to remember everything. When I took the speculum gla.s.s out of the silvering bath, I ought to have deluged it with pure water till all that greyish powder was washed away, then it would have been fairly bright."

"Yes, uncle; but what has that to do with the explosion?"

"Everything, my boy. If there had been no powder there we should have had no explosion."

"But it wasn't gunpowder, uncle," cried Tom, "it couldn't be. I know what gunpowder's made of--nitre, brimstone, and charcoal; and besides, we had no light."

"No, Tom, but it was a mixture far stronger than gunpowder, and one which will explode with a very slight friction."

"I know," cried the Vicar eagerly, "fulminate of silver."

"Quite right," said Uncle Richard; "and I feel quite ashamed of my ignorance. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing; and I ought to have known that in this process I was preparing so dangerous a compound."

"I know," cried Tom now; "fulminate of silver is what they put in percussion caps, isn't it, uncle?"

"No; that is a very similar compound, but it is fulminate of mercury.-- Well, Maxted, what am I to say to you for trying to kill you?"

"I think you had better say nothing," said the Vicar quietly. "It seems to me that the less we talk about it the better, and content ourselves with being thankful for our escape."

"It's lucky, uncle, that it missed the big speculum, and a lot more stuff being used."

"Fortunate indeed, Tom. We must be more careful next time."

"But surely you will not try so dangerous an experiment again?" said the Vicar anxiously.

"Certainly I shall," said Uncle Richard. "The experiment is not in the least dangerous if properly carried out. The accident was from my ignorance. I know better now."

"You've paid very dearly for your experience," said the Vicar, smiling.

"It's rather hard upon your friends, though, to try such risky experiments in their presence."

"Next time all will go well. Will you come and see it?"

"Really, my dear Brandon, I respect you very much, as my princ.i.p.al parishioner, and a man after my own heart, but I'm afraid I shall be too busy to come next time. I'll wait till the big telescope is ready for use, when I shall want to peep through; but even then I shall approach it with fear and trembling. It will look like a great gun, and I shall always feel afraid of its going off."

"And you, Tom," said his uncle, "what do you say?"

"What about, uncle?"

"Shall you be afraid to come and help silver another time?"

"Oh no, uncle, I think not," replied the boy. "But I say, will my ears leave off?"

"What, listening?"

"No, uncle; it's just as if I'd got a little tiny m.u.f.fin-man ringing his bell in each ear as hard as he can go."

"Try a night's rest," said Uncle Richard. "Yes, I'm very sorry we had such a mishap."

"Never mind," said the Vicar; "it will give our little glazier a job.

And now I feel rested and better, so good-evening, I'm going home."

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.