"I'll go and ask," answered the servant, leaving him on the doorstep, panting for breath, and sitting down to take rest for one minute.
It was very hard to find Mr. Mason gone out; for if he were not back quickly, perhaps John Shafto would be dead, and he would never, never hear him speak again. Would it not be best to return at once with the news that Mr. Mason was not at home? But then John was so fond of him, whom he had known and loved years before he had picked up Sandy in the streets. And Mr. Mason would be deeply grieved if he found John dead, without any good-bye between them. It would be a sore disappointment to them both. Yet suppose neither he nor Mr. Mason could be in time, and each of them lost the sad pleasure of seeing Johnny once more! Surely it would not be wrong to go back at once, and make sure of it for himself!
Sandy had not quite made up his mind, when the door was opened again by the servant; and he sprang to his feet to hear what she had to tell him.
"Masters only gone to a farewell tea-meeting at Miss Murray's," she said. "She's going to start for Canada to-morrow with a lot of children; and master's sending out two of the boys from his Refuge, so he's gone to see them for the last time. It's about twenty minutes from here, the place is."
"I know the place," interrupted Sandy; "we took a load of wood there this mornin' for Miss Murray's boys to chop up."
"That's where master is at this moment," said the servant.
She shut the door again, leaving Sandy on the step, still uncertain what to do.
It was a mile farther on, a long mile: and every step would increase the distance between himself and John Shafto. He started back towards home, and ran swiftly to the end of the street, feeling that he could not go the other way. But he paused again there. How grieved John would be! And Mr. Mason, what would he say when he heard John Shafto was dead, without one word of good-bye? Would he suffer anything like the sorrow he was feeling? Suddenly Sandy set off again in the opposite direction, and did not waste another instant, or pause again, until he reached the place where he would find Mr. Mason.
It was a large building—a home for destitute children, who found their way to it from all parts of London. Every window was lighted up, and there was a great stir about it, of people passing in and out busily. To-morrow a number of orphan boys and girls, taken out of the very gutters of the City, were about to start for a new home in Canada; and many of their friends had met for the purpose of bidding them good-bye, and giving them little keepsakes for them to remember the old country by in after-life.
Sandy made his way to the entrance of the large room, where they were assembled, but he could not push in at first, for the crowd in the doorway. He could hear Mr. Mason's voice speaking; and he listened impatiently. But he did not know that he might not be hustled out, if he interrupted his speech, and perhaps be given in charge of the policeman he had seen near the outer door.