"Follow after me, if you please," said the young man, with real kindness in his tones.
The quarrel seemed forgotten.
In a little while, Sam came limping to the field with a jug of fresh water. He was beginning to use his sprained ankle again, but he made awkward work of it. Mr. Royden called him, and drank from the jug, having first offered it to Father Brighthopes.
"Any mice, Jim?" asked Sam, slyly.
"We have no time to think of mice, my son," said the clergyman.
At that moment one of the little animals in question ran away from his rake, and took refuge under the wagon.
"I'll ketch him!" said Sam, with eyes sparkling mischief.
"Come, come! no nonsense this afternoon," cried Mr. Royden. "Go and carry the jug to the men. They're wanting it by this time."
"I'm going right along, sir," replied Sam, starting, but looking back for the mouse.
Mr. Royden went on. Turning presently, he saw the boy in hot pursuit of the unhappy mouse. He had forgotten about his lame foot. He was leaping about on the mown sward, and dancing this way and that, with surprising agility.