“Let me go first, with my lantern,” he said, “while you remain here, for I think I can be of more service to him than you, poor child.”
He turned his steps in the direction whence the sound had proceeded, and in a few moments, guided by Bose, found simple Johnny lying flat on his face, moaning and weeping most piteously. The child’s hat and little basket of acorns were upon the ground beside him, as though he had accidentally fallen asleep there. The doctor raised him up, and spoke to him kindly. He brushed away the long, wet ringlets from the poor child’s face—put his hat upon his head, gave him his basket, and then led him out to the place where Hesper was anxiously awaiting them.
The instant the poor child recognized her, he uttered a cry of joy. He seized her by the dress, and laying his head against her, made the low soothing sound he usually did when pleased. Hesper, unlike herself, scarce knew what she said or did, but when she minded how damp the child’s clothes were, and how he shivered with cold, she took off her great warm shawl and wrapped it closely about him. As they all three walked home together, the doctor asked her a great many questions about herself and family.
“Well, Miss Hesper,” he said at last, as he was about to leave her, “I am right glad that I have met with you, and shall endeavor to see you again, very soon.” He stooped down and kissed Johnny, and as he turned away, he dropped something into his basket, which afterwards proved to be a bright golden eagle.
CHAPTER XVI.
THE SHEPHERD’S CALL.
It was only a few evenings after Johnny’s adventure in the wood, that Hesper stood hesitating and trembling on the great stone steps at the doctor’s front door. She raised her hand to the silver bell knob, and then withdrew it, as if her courage failed her.