“No. She’d better go to the station-house with me. The matron’ll look after her and I’ll have the donkey put in stable. I’ll tell the officer who’s coming on this beat now to keep an eye out for a countryman with a stiff-legged horse; is it, girl?”
“Yes. A bay horse, with a blazed face. The horse’s name is Stiffleg and the master’s, Ephraim Marsh.”
The officer made the entry in his book, then took hold of Scruff’s bridle and led the way stationward. Jessica looked appealingly into the young man’s face and he smiled, then grasped her hand.
“Don’t fear, child, that I’ll desert you till I find your old guardian. There’s nothing frightful about a station-house, except to criminals,” he said, kindly.
However, Jessica knew nothing of such institutions and therefore had no fear of them. With the exception of Antonio’s “crossness” she had met with nothing but love and kindness all her life, and she looked for nothing else. She was already happy again at finding two persons ready to talk with her and help her; and her pretty face grew more and more charming to the artist’s view as she skipped along beside him toward the police headquarters, as this station chanced to be.
“You see, little girl, that when a child is lost in a city the first thing the friends think of is–the station-house. All stray persons are taken and messages are sent to it from every part of the town all the time. That Ephraim will remember that, if he’s ever been here before, and he’ll be finding you long before night. Till then you’ll be safe and cared for.”
Jessica did feel a moment’s hesitation when she had to part with Scruff, but soon laughed at her own dismay.
“I felt as I must take him inside this building with me, for fear he’d be lonesome, too. But, of course, I know better. Why, what a nice, big place this is!”
By far the largest building she had ever entered, but her new acquaintances smiled at her delight over it.
“Not all who come here think it so fine,” said the young man. “Eh, officer?”