It was most painful; for my landlady’s impending hysterics were making the lad worse every moment.
A QUIET SLEEP.
“Is poesje ook weggeloopen?” he said presently. A happy thought struck Kathleen. She stole downstairs, and presently returned with the ‘chat’, which was purring vigorously and giving ‘kopjes’.
As she placed the soft furry creature in Jan’s hands, he stopped moaning and stroked it joyfully. “Dag, Kitty!” he said with delight. “Ben je terug?”
Apparently he thought it was I who had restored the wanderer, for he explained: “Geen praatje, mijnheer: Zat is mine naiz litle chat.”
Then, exhausted and satisfied, he dropped into a sound sleep.
CHAPTER XI.
GOSSIP AND DIPLOMACY.
The strain was over; and the little lad slumbered peacefully,—until dawn, as it proved. We got the mother gradually quieted, and at last induced to go off to bed, leaving Kathleen in charge for the night. About half-past-one, Terence and I, growing hungry, extemporised a sort of pic-nic in the kitchen; but Kathleen wouldn’t touch anything we brought her.