He picked her up and they
whispered to each other, then she scrambled down and went to Yan. He
lifted her with a tenderness that was born of the thought that she
alone loved him now. She beckoned his head down, put her chubby arms
around his neck and whispered, "_Don't tell_," then slid down,
holding her dear innocent little finger warningly before her mouth.
What did it mean? Had Sam told her to do that, or was it a mere
repetition of her old trick? No matter, it brought a rush of warm
feeling into Yan's heart. He coaxed the little cherub back and
whispered, "No, Minnie, I'll never tell." He began to see how crazy he
had been. Sam was such a good fellow, he was very fond of him, and he
wanted to make up; but no--with Sam holding threats of banishment over
him, he could not ask for forgiveness. No, he would do nothing but
wait and see.
He met Mr. Raften again and again that evening and nothing was said.
He slept little that night and was up early. He met Mr. Raften
alone--rather tried to meet him alone. He wanted to have it over with.
He was one of the kind not prayed for in the Litany that crave "sudden
death." But Raften was unchanged. At breakfast Sam was as usual,
except to Yan, and not very different to him.
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