Mrs Chopper went into Joey’s room with the candle in her hand, followed by Nancy. “See, how sound he sleeps!” said the old woman; “he is not guilty. Peter! Peter! come get up, child.”
Joey rose from his bed, confused at first with the light in his eyes, but soon recovered himself.
“Peter, you must go, my poor boy, and go quickly, Nancy says.”
“I was sure of it,” replied Joey: “I am very, very sorry to leave you, Mrs Chopper. Pray think well of me, for, indeed, I have done nothing wrong.”
“I am sure of it; but Nancy knows it all, and away you must go. I wish you were off; I’m getting fidgety about it, although I cannot bear to lose you; so good-bye at once, Peter, and God bless you! I hope we shall meet again yet.”
“I hope so, indeed, Mrs Chopper; for you have been very kind to me, as kind as a mother could be.”
Mrs Chopper hugged him to her breast, and then said, in a hurried tone, as she dropped on the bed,—“There; go, go.”
Nancy took up Joey’s bundle in one hand and Joey by the other, and they went down stairs. As soon as they were in the street, Nancy turned short round, and went to the house where she usually slept, desiring Joey to wait a moment at the door. She soon returned with her own bundle, and then, with a quick pace, walked on, desiring Joey to follow her. They proceeded in this manner until they were clear of the town, when Joey came up to Nancy, and said, “Thank you, Nancy; I suppose we’d better part now?”
“No, we don’t part yet, Peter,” replied Nancy.
“But where are you going, and why have you that bundle?”