Chapter X Trouble
After Mr. and Mrs. Le Bras had returned to the pier in the sail-boat, Oliver said he should be just in time to go to the station for Kate.
“How far is the town from the village?” inquired Mrs. Le Bras.
“About six miles, ma’am.”
“I think, then, that I will ride to the village with you; and, after we have taken in Kate, you may drive into town. I don’t know what I shall do in this quiet place, Frank, without more to take up my mind: so I think I will get some oil-colors, and try painting again; there are such lovely views about here. It will amuse me, and help to keep up my painting, which is getting very rusty indeed. If I can succeed pretty well, the views will be pleasant souvenirs of our summer vacation here.”
“I should like that very much,” replied Mr. Le Bras. “I would accompany you to town were it not for returning so late. Some one must be here to see to the children: Felix is so thoughtless that I have not the confidence about leaving them that I used to have in leaving John and Sue.”
“Oh, no! the children must not be left. But suppose you go, Frank, and get the paints. I am sure you can do it quite as well.”
“No: I should be sure to make some mistake. And Pierre and I were to try a little fishing off the rocks. He has some ducks for dinner, and we thought we might capture some porgies or blackfish for breakfast.”
“I’ll go up and git the carriage, then,” said Oliver. “Here’s a nice pavilion you can sit in, ma’am, till I git back: I sha’n’t be long.”
The pavilion was a large canvas roof, supported by a frame placed on the shore near the pier. There were seats under it, upon which nurses and children were sitting, and also several ladies and gentlemen. Mr. Le Bras seated his wife upon one of the vacant benches, and he and Pierre sat down by her side.
“Those rocks, down yonder, look like a pretty good fishing-place,” remarked Pierre, glancing at a cluster of rocks projecting into the water, some distance below the cottages.
“Yes: we will try that place. I believe you said you had lines and hooks with you.”
“Yes: they are in my pouch. I thought I might try fishing up at the Point, if I did not succeed in getting the ducks; but ducks are very plenty there.”
After they had sat conversing for a while, Oliver arrived with the carriage; and Mrs. Le Bras got in, and rode off towards the village. Her last words were,—
“You will have to give an extra good-night kiss to the children, for me, Frank. I am afraid I shall not be at home in time; for I am sure they will be very tired, and wish to go to bed early.”
After the carriage had driven off, Mr. Le Bras and Pierre procured some bait at a little fish-market near the shore, and then proceeded to the rocks. By half-past six they had caught several blackfish and a sea-bass: it had by that time become very cloudy and windy, and was getting dark.
“I think we shall have to make the blackfish answer for breakfast,” said Mr. Le Bras. “As for the bass, that will make a good first course for dinner. We shall not have much more than time to get back to supper. I will not have it put off again until seven. I did it to accommodate John and Felix about going to the Point in the cool of the day. Hereafter, they can take morning for bicycling, as usual: I thought I would indulge them for once.”
Mr. Le Bras was somewhat surprised, on reaching home, to find that Johnny and Felix had not returned. Sue and Julia were sitting in the veranda, talking merrily; but Sue’s face fell a little when she found her mother would not be home until late.
“It would have been sort of lonely when I got back, if it hadn’t been for Julia,” she said.
“I supposed the boys would be at home by this time,” replied Mr. Le Bras. “But they will doubtless arrive very soon.”
As supper was not quite ready, Mr. Le Bras and Pierre went out by the barn to dress the blackfish, which required skinning, having told Mary that she need not ring the supper-bell until the boys came. But after the fish were dressed, and the gentlemen had washed their hands, and brushed their clothes, there was no further excuse for delaying supper. Yet there were still no boys in view.
“I do not understand this,” said Mr. Le Bras. “But we will have supper now, Mary. As for those young truants, they will deserve nothing better than bread and water when they make their appearance. I should suppose that cloud would have warned them home, even had I not told them to be here by seven. If they do not come soon, I fear they will get a wetting.”
“It’s Felix’s fault, some way, I’m sure,” said Sue. “You ought to hear Julia tell what pranks he cut up here last summer: she said he wouldn’t mind his father and mother at all, and was always getting into some scrape or other, or getting some one else in. He and that Jack, who stoned her kitten,—his kitten, I mean, that’s hers now,—they were great friends: only they were always fighting and quarrelling with each other. Dear me! how sleepy I am! I can hardly keep my eyes open long enough to eat my supper.”
“That must be what ails the boys,” said Pierre, laughing, as Sue leaned back in her chair, holding her knife and fork in a very languid manner, as if the dissection of the sardine on her plate was a great task to be undertaken. “They have been overcome by the exercise and seaside air, and fallen asleep by the side of their bicycles.”
Just then the rain began to dash against the panes of the dining-room windows. Mr. Le Bras rose from the table, and, going out at the front-door, looked up the road; but it was now too dark and foggy to see any distance. As he came back to the table, he said rather gravely,—
“It is pretty dark now for the boys to make their way home. I hope they will not try it on the beach-road; for they might ride into the water, Felix is so heedless, and Johnny so near-sighted.”
“I think I heard Felix say they were coming back on the other road,” replied Pierre: “I’ll go and look out the back way.”
So Pierre went to the back-door, and looked out: in fact, he went far out into the huckleberry pasture behind the barn. But nothing could be seen or heard but rain and darkness and the sighing of the wind.
“What can be done?” asked Mr. Le Bras, as Pierre came in with his report.
“I might take one of the horses, and ride up to the quarrymen’s houses at the Point, and see if they are there all right. I think I can keep the shell road easily, even in the darkness; and I will give the horse the lead across the cart-path. When we get to the other road, I will turn to the left; and the horse will go on without any trouble till we get to the houses.”
“But you will get badly wet.”
“That is nothing: I am used to it. Besides, I have a rubber coat.”
“Is there a saddle at the barn?”
“If not, it will not make much difference.”
“Yes, there is, sir,” said Mary, who had just come into the dining-room with a fresh supply of dry toast. “Isn’t it dreadful those children ha’n’t come? If Mrs. Le Bras was here, she’d be worried enough.”
“Yes: that is the worst of it,” replied Mr. Le Bras. “I would go and look for them myself, were it not for fear she would be back before I was. I must try to keep it from her, if possible.”
“I will go right out, then, and saddle the pony,” replied Pierre.
“You’ll find the saddle hanging up just at the left of the door, as you go in,” said Mary. “An’ I’ll go and light you a lantern.”
By this time, Sue was fast asleep in her chair at the table. Her father took her in his arms, and carried her up to her room. Mary said she would come right up and undress her.
“If she wakes up enough to ask any questions, don’t tell her about the boys not being home, if you can help it,” said Mr. Le Bras; “for she might hear her mother when she comes, and tell her the trouble: although I hope they will be back before then.”
Mr. Le Bras gave Sue two kisses very soberly as he laid her on the bed, and then hurried down to see Pierre off. As Pierre rode up the shell road, in the darkness and wind and rain, Mr. Le Bras called out, “If you come back alone, go quietly around to the back-door, and I will be on the lookout for you. My wife will probably be home by that time.”
In fact, Mrs. Le Bras reached the cottage before Pierre had been gone more than a half-hour. Oliver had put his horses to their best speed on account of the storm. Kate went into the kitchen with Mary, who was delighted to have a companion for the whole summer, and knew, by the first glance she gave at Kate’s, good-humored, intelligent face, that they should be great friends. Mrs. Le Bras went immediately to her own room, saying she was never more tired in her life, “and all in having a good time,” she added. “I have got my paints all right, and the brushes. It is really a very nice little town, with stores up to the times.”
“Did you go to a restaurant and get some supper?” inquired Mr. Le Bras, trying to look unconcerned.
“No: we dared not wait so long. We stopped at a baker’s, and got some refreshments, which we ate on the way home. I bought some cookies for the children too. I suppose they came home all tired out?”
“Sue was so tired that she went to sleep at the supper-table,” replied Mr. Le Bras.
“And of course Johnny and Felix got home before the rain?”
“I told John to be home by seven, you remember.”
“And Johnny is always so prompt. What a good boy he is! Did you give them the extra kisses, my dear?”
“I am afraid they were both lost on Sue, because I carried her up to bed fast asleep.”
“I believe you are as sleepy as I am, my dear: your face looks an inch longer than usual, and you have scarcely looked at me all the time I have been talking. Why don’t you get ready to go to bed?”
“I must go down and lock the doors first; and I must see Pierre, too, and talk up some plans for to-morrow morning.”
“Hasn’t Pierre gone to bed?”
“Oh, no!”
“I think I’ll just look in on Sue a minute.”
Mrs. Le Bras took the lamp, and, stepping softly to Sue’s door, opened it, and looked in.
“Just as pretty as ever. I have a great mind to go and look at Johnny in his new room.”
“No,” said Mr. Le Bras, taking the lamp: “you had better go directly to bed, and let me take the lamp. I am afraid Pierre is waiting for me.”
“Very well,” replied Mrs. Le Bras, lying down. “You’ll be up before long, won’t you?”
“Yes. Go to sleep now.”
Mr. Le Bras placed the lamp in the lower hall, and then, opening the front-door a little way, put out his head, and listened. He could hear nothing but the wind and rain. Mary stole in from the kitchen, and said, “I haven’t told Kate, as you said; but hadn’t I better tell Oliver?”
“You get Kate off to bed, and I will tell Oliver.”
When Kate had gone, Mr. Le Bras went into the kitchen, and consulted with Oliver. Oliver was sure the boys were safe in some house at the quarry. “An’ that’s what Pierre’ll tell you when he gits back, sir.”
“I think so too,” said Mr. Le Bras.
At that moment the door opened, and Pierre entered the room.
“Did you find them at the quarry?” asked Mr. Le Bras breathlessly.
Pierre shook his head.
“The men said they took the wrong road, according to the account of the folks at the village, who saw two boys on bicycles turn off the road at the left, just this side of the houses, which leads over by the lighthouse. It seems they asked one of the quarrymen what road to take to come back the other way; and one of them said, ‘Turn off at the first road you come to,’ supposing they would know enough to turn to the right, and not to the left. But the men say it’s all right: the boys would have come out by the lighthouse about the time it began to rain hard, and would stay there, of course, on such a wild night.”
“Yes, I suppose they are there,” replied Mr. Le Bras. “Even if there could be any less consoling supposition, the storm is now too wild for any further attempt to find them. It is a wonder to me that you got to the Point and back in the wind and darkness. Go to your room at once; and I will come up, by the time you are in bed, and give you some hot ginger-tea.”
Pierre said he never took cold, but went to his room, while Oliver went out and put up the horse.
It was agreed that Oliver should get up at daybreak, and go over to the lighthouse, and, if the boys were not there, inquire at any other houses where they could possibly have taken refuge, so that their safety might be known before Mrs. Le Bras awoke in the morning. As for Mr. Le Bras, he spent a sleepless night. But he was grateful for one thing,—his wife slept soundly. He arose early, and, as Mrs. Le Bras was still sleeping, stole downstairs to escape having any questions to answer before Oliver came back from his expedition. Pierre, too, was down-stairs, looking anxious and uneasy. It was a very bright morning as far as the weather was concerned.
“Suppose we walk over towards the lighthouse ourselves,” said Mr. Le Bras; “the suspense is getting unendurable; although, of course, they are all right.”
So Mr. Le Bras and Pierre started off across lots; and shortly after, Mary and Kate came down to prepare breakfast.
About half way to the lighthouse, they met Oliver coming back, looking blank and sober.
“Haven’t you found them?” said Mr. Le Bras, with a sinking heart.
“They was at the lighthouse all right; but they left there about half-past seven, in all that ’ere wind and rain. There wasn’t any one at the lighthouse but a little gal, a niece of the keeper; an’ she says the smaller of them, that’s Johnny, said they must try and git home, and that, if they didn’t, they’d come back to the lighthouse: and so they s’posed they was home all right.”
“What houses are there about?” inquired Pierre; for Mr. Le Bras seemed unable to speak.
“There ain’t none on this road, nor a barn; an’ how they could a got away from the road in the storm, an’ over the stun walls with their bicycles, I don’t see nohow. There’s that house, way over yonder; that’s the nearest house to this ’ere road: now, ’pears to me they couldn’t a got there without flyin’ over all them walls.”
“If they came this road, they couldn’t have got into the water,” said Pierre: “I shouldn’t wonder if they made their way clear to the end down by the other cottages.”
“That may be,” said Mr. Le Bras: “let us go right down there. You can go home, Oliver, and Pierre and I will continue the search. If Mrs. Le Bras comes down before we come back, tell her—indeed, what can you tell her? I must try to be back myself. Let us make haste, Pierre!”
Mr. Le Bras and Pierre made inquiries through the whole row of cottages, with all the haste possible; but no one had seen or heard of the missing boys. As they returned home, along the shell road, Mr. Le Bras was silent. He was pale, and walked rapidly. Pierre tried to think of some bright probability regarding Felix and Johnny; but although it seemed unlikely that they could have perished, like the babes in the wood, in a single night, he could picture no place of refuge which they had not searched. The farmhouse only was left; but, as Oliver had said, it would have been next to impossible for them to go across lots and over stone walls to any definite place, that dark and stormy night. Still, he finally suggested to Mr. Le Bras that he might hurry over there and inquire.
“No,” replied Mr. Le Bras: “we will go home first, and inform my wife; it cannot be kept from her any longer. And then you and I and Oliver will scour the region in different directions. If nothing serious has happened to the boys, however, they will make their appearance themselves before long. What I am afraid of is that they have been overcome by fatigue and exposure, having been out all night, and are now lying helpless somewhere in the fields or woods.”
When they reached the cottage, they entered the front-door. Just then the breakfast-bell rang. Mr. Le Bras paused in the hall to compose himself for the sad task before him. He took off his hat, and wiped his forehead: he tried to look cheerful and unconcerned. Mrs. Le Bras came tripping down-stairs with Sue, in the best of spirits.
“What a lovely morning after the rain!” she said. “How blue the sky and water are! How cheerful the cottage looks! What a delicious sea-breeze! What an appetite we shall have for your blackfish! Isn’t it a lovely place, my dear?”
Mr. Le Bras suppressed a groan: he turned away his face, but she did not notice. Sue ran ahead to the dining-room.
Mr. Le Bras had just taken his wife’s arm to lead her aside into the parlor, and there break the startling news to her as gently as possible, when Sue was heard saying,—
“You were very bad boys! You didn’t get home at seven last night, as you promised; and I am sure papa will make you pay a penalty.”
Mr. Le Bras felt giddy, almost faint; but he had presence of mind enough to lead his wife into the dining-room instead of the parlor, and there at the table in their places sat two rosy-cheeked, happy-looking boys, with their eyes brimful of fun and expectancy; although a keen observer might have noticed a shade more of gravity upon Johnny’s face than upon Felix’s daring countenance.
Pierre, who was standing in the front-door, thinking gloomily, all of a sudden, of the pond just this side of the lighthouse, of which a man at the Point had spoken as a good place to get water-lilies, and wondering if the boys could have stumbled into it, heard Sue’s clear, merry voice also; and his heart bounded joyfully as he turned and joined the group in the dining-room.
After grace had been said, Mr. Le Bras began to serve, without saying a word.
“Didn’t you get home until after seven?” Mrs. Le Bras asked the boys, as she began to pour out the coffee.
“No, ma’am,” replied Johnny, looking curiously at his father: “we didn’t get into the house until this morning. We got caught in the rain.”
“And so we lodged away from home,” added Felix, who could not wait for Johnny to tell it all himself; “but, as it happened, we didn’t have to pay any thing for lodging.”
“Why!” said Mrs. Le Bras, looking at her husband with some surprise: “why didn’t you tell me the boys were staying away from home?”
“As I could not tell you exactly where they were staying, my dear,—although I supposed, that, having got caught in the rain, they were safe with some good family hereabouts,—I thought it best not to tell you until this morning, for fear you would be anxious, and worry about them.”
“I presume I should, and you were very kind; although generally I think I should prefer to know, in such a case. But how did it happen, boys, that you were belated, and so did not get home before it rained hard? I am sure I heard Johnny’s father tell him to be back by seven. And where did you stay all night? Just to think of it! Why, Johnny was never away from both me and his father for a night before! Yes, I should have been very nervous if I had known it!”
“You had better begin at the beginning, boys,” remarked Mr. Le Bras, “and then, by the time you have finished the account, you will have answered all your mother’s questions. Let Felix begin first; and when he has got as far as the lighthouse, Johnny may take up the narrative, and complete it.”
“What do you know about the lighthouse?” asked Felix.
“Never mind, my boy: tell your story first.”
Felix began, and gave the narration with tolerable accuracy. When he came to Johnny’s asking him what time it was, Mr. Le Bras said,—
“Was your watch right, Felix?”
“I didn’t know whether it was right then, or not; but it couldn’t have been right, we found out afterwards.”
“You supposed it to be right, then?”
“Why, I knew, as soon as I took it out, that it had stopped; but I couldn’t tell for sure but what it had stopped just about that time. I didn’t tell Johnny it had stopped; because he didn’t ask me what time it was, but what time it was by my watch; and so I really told him what time it was by my watch, and then I wound it up. I didn’t tell a lie anyway, you see; and I didn’t know but what the watch had just stopped, and so it was the right time.”
“I think we must have a little talk together, by and by, about the watch business, Felix,” said Mr. Le Bras rather gravely. “But go on now with your account.”
When Felix got as far as their knocking at the lighthouse door, the story was turned over to Johnny, who gave a very interesting account, to begin with, of their visit with Ruth.
“I must get acquainted with Ruth, just as soon as ever I can!” exclaimed Sue; “and I want to see the blue dress. That will be two girls,—Julia and Ruth; and it will be a nice ride to the lighthouse for Julia and me, in the dog-cart.”
When Johnny came to their wandering about in the storm on foot, having lost the road, and being so drenched and despairing, Mrs. Le Bras exclaimed,—
“Why, this is perfectly dreadful! My dear, how could you rest easy with these boys away from home? If you had told me, I should have insisted upon some one being sent to look for them. They might have taken their death-cold. Are you certain, boys, that you feel quite well? I am not sure but you ought to be put to bed this minute, with hot drinks, and wrapped in blankets.”
The boys laughed at this: they said they never felt better in their lives.
“I think it will not, apparently, endanger their lives to finish the account before going to bed; as I judge that Johnny is nearly through now,” replied Mr. Le Bras, smiling.
“Well,” continued Johnny, “we were feeling about, trying to find the road again, when I knocked my head against something. I felt of it, and found it was some sort of a building. We both examined it with our hands, and concluded it was a barn; as it was smooth, and didn’t have any windows as far as we could reach. We felt our way around to the other side, and came to a door which we managed to open. We went in, and pulled the door together, to keep out the rain, and felt our way around for the hay-mow. We couldn’t find any mow, but we came across a lot of nice clean straw on the floor; and we lay down in it, and covered ourselves up with it, and, after talking a while, we fell asleep.”
“You said your prayers first, didn’t you?” said Sue.
“Why, no!” replied Johnny, as if the omission had just occurred to him; “I don’t believe I did; I guess we were so excited that we forgot to say our prayers. We didn’t say them, did we, Felix?”
“No. Let’s see: one of the last things I said was to remind you of what you said, one day, about there couldn’t be any fire, unless the carbon and hydrogen had oxygen to combine with it, and I asked you how it happened, then, that the men at the quarry rammed the powder down in a hole, with a lot of stuff jammed on the top of it, as if they were trying to keep the air out on purpose.”
“Oh, yes!” said Johnny; “and then I said that was what they were trying to do; because there was a lot of oxygen in the saltpetre that was in the powder, which furnished a plenty to unite with the sulphur and charcoal, and then, when they began to unite, all in an instant, because every thing was all mixed just right, there’d got to be ever so much more room for the expansion of the gas, and that forced the rock apart.”
“Yes,” added Felix; “and then I said, ‘Oh! that’s it. I’m glad you can tell a fellow every thing he wants to know, except how to find his way home on a dark night.’ And that’s the last we said.”
“So Johnny says his prayers to be kept safe when he’s all nice at home, and when he’s lost way off somewhere, he forgets all about them,” remarked Sue, as she buttered her roll.
“But we got along all right, just the same,” said Felix.
“Probably that’s because some of the prayers you said before had enough about being kept safe to last over one night,” explained Sue.
“I protest against this digression!” exclaimed Pierre. “Here’s Johnny come to the most interesting part of his story, and then he leaves off just at the critical part, just like the sensational papers.”
“That was what I was going to say. I will talk with Johnny about forgetting his prayer, to-night,” said Mrs. Le Bras. “And now go on, my son.”
“I am very curious to know what barn they slept in,” remarked Mr. Le Bras.
“So am I,” said Kate, who having come in with some hot rolls, when Felix began the story, had been standing spell-bound ever since, with her salver in her hand.
“I believe Felix said he awoke once in the night,” continued Johnny, “and saw someone with a light, putting up a horse; but I didn’t wake up until morning.”
“I didn’t see the man nor the horse,” explained Felix; “but I saw a light, and heard a horse stepping about; and then I saw the light vanish, and heard the man fasten a door. I don’t think I had been asleep long then, for I felt pretty wet and a little cold; and I pulled some more straw up over me.”
“Go on, Johnny,” said Mr. Le Bras.
“When I awoke in the morning, I was pretty well surprised to find we were in our own barn. I woke Felix up, and we had a good laugh. Then we went out, and found that the reason we couldn’t find the road was because we had come to where it turned into another road running down towards the cottages, and the stone wall had ended there. We had left our bicycles in a kind of marshy place, by the side of the road, full of tall reeds: we could hardly find them, they were so covered up with the reeds.”
“That is the reason we did not see them, Pierre,” remarked Mr. Le Bras.
“We rolled our bicycles back to the barn, and put them up, and then came into the house. Mary and Kate had just come down to get breakfast; and Mary said father and Pierre were afraid we were lost, and Oliver had gone to look us up, but we needn’t say any thing to mother and Sue, as they didn’t know any thing about it. I told Mary and Kate to let father and Pierre know we had come home; and then Felix and I went to our rooms to change our clothes. They were all dry, but they looked pretty well tumbled and muddy; and we needed a good washing ourselves. Before we were ready, Oliver came up, and said my father and Pierre were in a great fright, and had gone down to the cottages to inquire for us. We told him to hurry off, and let them know we were all right. After he had been gone a little while, the breakfast-bell rang, and we came down.”
“Oliver missed your father and Pierre,” said Kate; “for he went down on the back road, while they were coming up on the shell road. And he and Mary are in a great state to hear how it all happened; so, now I know, I’ll go to the kitchen and tell them.”
By this time, breakfast was finished; and Mrs. Le Bras was still anxious, for fear the boys would take cold from their exposure.
“Go to your rooms, boys, and go to bed,” said Mr. Le Bras, “and let Mrs. Le Bras roast and dose you, and rub you down with alcohol, to her heart’s content. That will be a salutary as well as a sanitary punishment, to begin with. Since Johnny don’t seem to have been much to blame, except in yielding his judgment that a place situated on the right could not, in the nature of things, be found by taking a road which turned to the left, I think a morning’s imprisonment in bed will suffice for him. But as for you, Felix, since you were somewhat unfair, and considerably reckless, you will have to pay another penalty, I think. Young people under my care and instruction have to pay penalties for any serious fault of demeanor or judgment. But we will have that talk together this afternoon, and adjust the matter.”
The boys laughingly protested against being sent to bed, but neither Mr. nor Mrs. Le Bras would let them off. They went up to their rooms still laughing and protesting, Johnny mildly, and Felix quite vociferously, holding his sides with laughter; while Mrs. Le Bras went to the kitchen to prepare the hot drinks. As for Sue, as soon as she was released from the table, she had run over to tell the whole story to Julia.
Mr. Le Bras went out, and sat down in the veranda, accompanied by Pierre.
“This beats all!” he said. “I wouldn’t have had such a fright for a hundred dollars! But there’s one thing to be thankful for,—my wife escaped it: if she had known beforehand, it would have made her down sick. Yes! let the boys go to bed! There they are, laughing still, the scamps! and never will know, until they have children of their own, what I have suffered since eight o’clock last night!”
“It’s the greatest cheat of a time I ever heard of,” said Pierre, sitting down on the steps, and beginning to laugh as only those can whose laughter has been long pent up. “I didn’t want to let the boys know I thought it was amusing, they were so inclined to treat it lightly themselves: but, ha, ha, ha!—to think of all the racing and talking and surmising, and scouring the country, and dead boys in ponds, and those youngsters all the time reposing peacefully right out here in the barn! Ha, ha, ha! ho, ho, ho!”
Pierre then told Mr. Le Bras of his dreadful surmise about the pond by the lighthouse.
“I am thankful I was spared the knowledge of there being a pond about here!” replied Mr. Le Bras fervently.
“You see, why they didn’t see the house was because Mary had put all the lamps she could muster on the west side to help guide me on my way back from the Point,” said Pierre. “So they must have gone into the barn while I was off up that way; for, after that, there were lights in the kitchen, which they couldn’t help but have seen.”