“I knew mother would be afraid about me,” said Squib; “but I didn’t mean Peter to go. I wanted to go myself as soon as the thunder and lightning stopped, but Seppi’s mother wouldn’t let me. Peter went instead. Peter is a very nice, brave boy—although Seppi is really my friend.”
He was silent for a short time, and then began again,—
“Father, I wish I might do something for them!”
“For your friends in your favourite valley? Well, Squib, what do you want to do?”
“I don’t quite know. I have so many plans. Father, haven’t I a lot of money in the bank? You know my godfathers and godmother always send me sovereigns on my birthday, and mother puts it in the bank. I think I must have a lot there now; haven’t I?”
“Well, according to your ideas, I daresay you have. Twelve or fifteen pounds, perhaps.”
To Squib that seemed a perfect fortune. His eyes shone brightly.
“Father, would that be enough to buy a cow? or enough to send Seppi to a school where he could be taught drawing and wood-carving, so that he could make his living? You know he is lame, and he is very delicate, too. He got a bad cold in the storm, and he has coughed ever since. I think if he could be sent to some warmer place in the winter, and be taught a sort of trade, it would be a very good thing. Do you think my money would do that? And do you think I might give it to him?”
“We will think about it seriously,” answered Colonel Rutland smiling, “since it does seem as if Seppi’s promptitude and presence of mind had saved you from possible danger. What is the name of this family in which you are so much interested?”
“Ernsthausen,” answered Squib at once; “and Lisa knows all about them. They have lived here a long time.”