Bunko replenished the fire with peats and wood, till the little oil-lamp that hung in the corner seemed sadly superfluous; the bright red gleams lit up the cosy old-world room, made every face seem doubly happy, and were reflected even from the dark, smoke-varnished rafters overhead.
To-night Eean told Toddie's story all over again, much to Frank's delight.
Toddie herself took an interest in it now, and that is what she had never, never done before.
"Weel," said Bunko, "you're a good man, Mr. Arundel, and I'll niver but believe it was an angel o' the Lord that put the saw in my hand, and made me cut up Toddie's log."
Frank had taken Toddie's hand as Bunko spoke, and he still retained it as he said, "But what a strange, mysterious story! It is just like what we read of in books. And, Toddie, there is no saying what you may turn out to be, you know, when the mystery gets all cleared up. Perhaps some Spanish princess, and a chariot and six white horses, all caparisoned with blue and gold, may come some day to take you off."
Toddie drew away her hand, and nestled her head against her Daddy Pop.
"I would not leave you, daddy," she said, "if they did come."
"What would you do, then?" said Frank, laughing.
"Oh, send Bunko away instead!"
"Well, anyhow," said Frank, after gazing thoughtfully at the fire a few moments, "it is a strange strange story. I wonder how it will all end."