"Shoo--shoo, get away!"
he called, thinking it was rats. He struck the floor several times
with his heavy little boots.
"Shoo!" he said.
"Bunty,"
The boy turned pale to his lips. That odd, low whisper of his
name, that strange rustle so near him--oh, what COULD it mean?
"Bunty."
Again the name sounded. Louder this time, but in a tired voice,
that struck him some way with a strange thrill. The rustling grew
louder, something was getting over the partition, crossing the
floor, coming towards him. He gave a sob of terror and flung
himself face downwards on the ground, hiding his little blanched
face among the straw.
"Bunty," said the voice again, and a light hand touched his arm.
"Help me--HELP me!" he shrieked. "Meg--oh! Father--Esther!"
But one hand was hastily put over his mouth and another pulled him
into a sitting position.
He had shut his eyes very tightly, so as not to see the ghostly
visitant that he knew had come to punish him for his sin. But
something made him open them, and then he felt he could never
close them again for amazement.
For, it was Judy's hand that was over his mouth, and Judy's self
that was standing beside him.
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