A SUDDEN FLIGHT.
"Little robin redbreast sat upon a tree,
Up went pussy-cat, and down went he;
Down came pussy-cat, and away robin ran;
Says little robin redbreast, 'Catch me if you can.'
"Little robin redbreast flew upon a wall,
Pussy-cat jumped after him, and almost got a fall.
Little robin chirped and sang, and what did pussy say?
Pussy-cat said 'Mew,' and robin flew away."
Meanwhile time was passing: morning had slipped on to afternoon. Moll would not stay inside the caravan all day, and Joe might be back at any moment.
"And now that you know where your Happy Land actually lies, don't you think we'd better make tracks for it as soon as we can?" said Bambo at length, speaking out of the silence that had fallen over the group. For both Darby and Bambo had been thinking, and Joan was asleep, with her head resting against the dwarf's shoulder.
"Why do you say 'we'? Are you going to come with us?" asked Darby, in great delight. "Oh, how kind you are! But won't you be very tired walking all that long way to Firgrove and back again, and your cough so troublesome?" he inquired with concern.
"I won't want to come back again, sonny. I've been intending to leave Joe and Moll for a good while past. I always put off and put off. Having no friends to go to, and there being nothing else I could fall back upon for a living, I suppose I was timid about making a change. Now I can see God's hand in it. He kept me on with the Harrises because He had something He wants poor Bambo to do before he dies. If only I can hold out until I deliver you and little missy safe into the care of your friends, that's all I'll ask. My work will then be done; I'll be ready for the call whenever the messenger comes."
"How? what do you mean?" asked Darby, in an eager whisper, for he was frightened—awed, rather—he knew not why, by the look on the dwarf's face.
"Because, deary, Bambo's soon going home—home to the dear Lord Jesus, whose love has made the world a happy land for the poor, despised, misshapen dwarf since first I sought and found Him waiting and willing to claim and receive me—me—even me, for His own."
The ready tears coursed quickly down Darby's cheeks, but he remained silent. He did not know rightly what he ought to say, and, guided by the inimitable tact, the heaven-born wisdom of childhood, said simply nothing.