Such a flushed, little, eager face it was now—such a fluent little tongue that told of Bunty’s goodness! The child’s beautiful trust, affection, and courage had quite touched the head master’s heart.
He took a bunch of keys from his pocket.
“You are a dear, brave, little girl, Poppet,” he said. “By the way, haven’t you a prettier name than that?”
“Oh, it’s Winifred, of course, really,” said Poppet.
“Something in a name,” he said, half to himself. Then aloud:
“Well, Winifred, then, just because you have believed in your brother and done this for him, I [86] ]am going to reward you in the way I know will gladden you most.”
He unlocked a tin box on the table, and counted out five sovereigns, while the surprise in Poppet’s eyes deepened every minute.
“Have you a purse?” he asked.
“No,” she said in a very low tone. It made her feel fit to cry to think he should give her money, even such a large, beautiful amount, for doing this.
“Because I want you to give this to Captain Woolcot,” he continued, “and tell him I have had reason to doubt whether John was guilty, and until I am perfectly sure it is not fair to the lad to take it.”