“O yes! Just wait a minute and let me ask Aunt Stanshy.”
He groped his way to his aunt’s bedroom.
“Aunt Stanshy, may I go with Will?”
In his eagerness he forgot to mention the object of this midnight expedition. Aunt Stanshy was not thoroughly awake, for the angel of sleep visiting Charlie had touched her eyes also. If awake, she might not have granted the request. The idea went confusedly through her brain that Charlie wanted to sleep with Will.
“Y-e-s,” she murmured, drowsily, and then the angel of sleep had her fully again under his control. Charlie stole down into Will’s room, his clothes on his arm.
“Now, dress quick as you can. Have you an overcoat?”
“Yes, but it is up in Aunt Stanshy’s closet.”
“We don’t want to disturb her again. Here, you put on the cape of my cloak and fold it about you.”
Charlie was proud to be thus enveloped. Will then completed his dressing, and looked like a Cape Codder just arrived from a fishing-smack. He took his young companion by the hand and off they started.
“Who’s that?” asked Will, as they turned from Water Street into Beach Street.