But Mr. Willis would not do that until he had reproved him sharply for the cruelty and cowardice of his behaviour; and Reginald was obliged to listen to him, whilst Angel and Gerald stood by, the former as indignant as her father, and the latter no less so really, though he was afraid to show what he felt.
"I hope you will never treat any animal so viciously again," Mr. Willis said in conclusion. "I am sure your father would be pained if he knew how you had served his pet."
"You will not tell him?" Reginald cried involuntarily.
"Not if you will promise never to thrash the dog so cruelly again."
"Oh, I promise that."
"Very well. I hope you will keep your word. Now I will let you go."
Mr. Willis released his hold of the boy, who picked up his fishing-rod, which he had flung on one side, and, without even glancing at Gerald, hurried away. The children and their father looked after him as he slunk down the road, the latter's countenance very grave.
"Oh, Gerald!" cried Angel, "how can you be friendly with a boy like that? How dreadfully he thrashed that poor dog! He must be very, very hard-hearted!"
"Perhaps he didn't mean to hurt it," Gerald replied, feeling he was called upon to make some sort of excuse for his friend.
"What nonsense, Gerald!" exclaimed his father sharply. "He did mean to hurt it! Children are often cruel when they are very young, because they do not understand the nature of pain; but Reginald Hope is a big boy, and he knew quite well the agony he was inflicting. Come, let us get home."