There was no radiance from the moonlight now upon the eager little face, and indoors was dark; but it was delightful to think of angels being about, until Wesley remarked, in his matter-of-fact way:
“If he was sent he ought to have stayed. I don’t believe he was a truly angel. I guess he was just one them changelings, papa tells stories about, that the fairies over in the Ireland-country carries ’round with ’em. If a baby or a boy is terrible cross—like the sick one was, yesterday, the fairy just snatches him up and whisks him off somewhere and puts a good new one in his place. Peek and see, Saint Anne!”
“Peek yourself, Wesley. I’m—I’d rather have an angel than a changeling. Anyhow, I’m going to sleep. God’s here, taking care, so it don’t matter.”
Happy in the faith that had been instilled into their minds from their earliest consciousness the deserted ones fell fast asleep, though not till Dorcas had slipped into Saint Augustine’s place in the boys’ bed a little willow whistle Jim had made for her and which she had refused to give her brother.
As for the angelic Gerald he was weakly trudging on his way toward the cross-cut lane, which he had seen from the cabin window and had been told led outward to the main road, running past Deer-Copse. How often he had wished to be upon it, and now he wondered why he hadn’t started long before. Though it grew steadily dark, he kept as steadily on, though his strength was sorely tried and he wished he dared stop and rest. He was afraid to do this. He knew if he lay down on the ground, that looked so tempting a bed, he wouldn’t have the energy to go on again. After a time his steps grew automatic. His feet lifted and fell with no volition of his own, it seemed, and a curious drowsiness came over him.
“I believe I’m going to sleep, walking!” he thought, and wearily closed his eyes. But he opened them again with a start.
“What’s that? What is it? Sounds like—I must be out of my head—I don’t know where I am. I can’t see. Ah! the lane! I’m there at last. Now I can lie right down and rest and somebody’ll find me—sometime.”
Yet once more into his drowsing ear fell a peculiar sound.
“Ah—umph! A-ah—oomph—ph—h——h!”