Edmund tried to smile. He sat down on the edge of a chair by the fire and looked across at Fibo in an uncomfortable fashion.
And then Fibo suddenly held out his hand.
"Come close to me, old chap, and tell me all about it. Don't be afraid. Honour bright, I'll try to help you!"
There was magic in Fibo's look and smile.
With a deep-drawn sob Edmund scuttled over to the couch. Fibo put his arm round him, and then he laid his brown head against the kind shoulder, and began to sob as if his heart would break.
"I—I—shall have to go to prison," he sobbed, "because I—I did it."
"I guessed you did. Nurse's story seems rather confused. We won't think about prison. Just tell me exactly what you did. Be a man and own up."
Edmund told him, and Fibo listened silently.
"Didn't you know that lighted paper and matches would be likely to burn?" he asked, when Edmund had come to a stop.
"I only meant to burn the fireworks."