He rose, brushed the dust from his shaking knees, and walked slowly
down to his father.
"Go and tell Pat I want him instantly," the Captain said. He
had the horse's leg in his hand and was examining it anxiously.
"If he's not about, send Pip. I can't think how it's happened--
do you know anything of this, Bunty?"
"No, of course not! I n--never did n--n--nothing," Bunty said with
chattering teeth, but his father was too occupied to notice his
evident guilt, and bade him go at once.
So he went up to the stables and sent Pat posthaste back to his
father.
And then he stole into the house, purloined two apples and a bit
of cake from the dining-room, and went away to be utterly miserable
until he had confessed.
He crept into a disused shed some distance from the house; in days
gone by it had been a stable, and had a double loft over it that
was only to be reached by a ladder in the last stage of dilapidation.
Bunty scrambled up, sat down in an unhappy little heap among some
straw, and began thoughtfully to gnaw an apple.
If ever a little lad was in need of a wise loving, motherly
mother it was this same dirty-faced, heavyhearted one who sat
with his small rough head against a cobwebby beam and muttered
dejectedly, "'Twasn't my fault: 'Twas the horse:"
He fancied something moved in the second loft, which was divided
from the one he was in by a low partition.
Pages:
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105