Bert saw him walk away with regret.
There was a fascination in watching the ways of this man, and the boy was sorry to think that some days must elapse ere he saw him again.
"I wonder if he's gone to see that friend he's always singing about," he said to himself. Then a grand idea came like a sudden inspiration to Bert. What if he were to go to see the Princess! If she would not come to him, why should he not go to her? If only he had money enough, no doubt a train would take him to the place where she was. Thrilled with excitement at the thought, Bert hastened to count his precious hoard. His coppers amounted to eleven-pence half-penny—almost a shilling! Surely, if he went on saving, he would soon have money enough to pay his fare to Hampshire. The idea acted on him like a stimulant. He rose at once and began to don his ragged clothes. He would lose no time in seeking to earn money. He hurried away, first to a coffee stall to get his breakfast, and then to secure his papers.
Fortune smiled on him this morning. He was lucky enough to make sixpence ere it was time for him to go to school.
When he came back to the house at mid-day, he found a crowd of children gathered at the top of the area steps. The cause of their gathering was soon evident. Loud and distressful mews resounded from the sailor's room. It was clear that his cat, shut up within, was both hungry and indignant.
"Did you ever hear anything like that cat?" cried the landlady, as she stood at her door, to the assembled neighbours. "It drives me frantic to hear it, and there's no getting to the creature, for he's locked the door and taken the key with him, and the shutters are fastened on the inside."
"What a shame to leave a poor dumb animal like that! He did ought to know better than to do such a thing," was the opinion expressed by more than one.
"Oh, as for that, he did not mean to do it. He must have forgot it just at the last, for he asked me to look after his cat, and he gave me money to buy it milk and meat. He'll be as mad as mad when he knows what he's done."
Bert knew that this was true. The lodger was far too fond of his cat to willingly cause it to suffer. Bert ran down the steps into the area, and standing by the door said, "Poor puss! Poor puss!" several times in encouraging tones. The cat's cries ceased for a few moments, then quickly began again, louder than ever.
A happy thought occurred to Bert. He remembered that the door was ill-fitting, and that a wide crevice at the top used to let in many a cruel draught upon him and Prin. If he stood on a chair, he might be able to drop some pieces of meat through the aperture.