The Boy pulled the cover over his head and waited for the storm to pass.
When the light was lit and search made, not a culprit could be found. They were all in bed sound asleep. The only one awake was the Boy in the little bed on which lay scattered potatoes, biscuits and cabbage.
The priest drew him from under the cover. His face was stern—the firm mouth rigid with anger.
"Did you know they were going to do that, sir?" he asked.
The Boy trembled but held his tongue.
"Answer me, sir!"
"I didn't know just what they were going to do—"
"You knew they were up to something?"
"Yes!"
"And you didn't tell me?"