"Take off this dreadful thing," said Polly with a shiver, and kneeling down, she seized the strings that tied the mask. "O dear! it's all in a knot. Wait, I'll get the scissors," and she found her feet, and ran off to her room.
"Now you are all right;" he gave a little sob as the mask tumbled off. "Oh! how could you?" she wanted to say, but Van's distress was too dreadful for anything but comfort.
"Don't you see," said Polly, sitting down on the floor and cuddling up his head in her lap, "that Joel is really all right now? Suppose we hadn't a Father Fisher who was a doctor, what should we do then?" and she even managed a faint laugh.
"O dear! but I've killed Joel." Van covered his face with the folds of her flannel dress and wailed on.
"Now, just see here, Van Whitney," said Polly, with the air of authority, "I tell you that Joel is all right now. Don't you say that again—not once more, Vanny."
"But I have ki—I mean I saw Thomas shoot, and I couldn't stop him," and Van writhed fearfully, ending with a scream "I've ki"—but Polly, clapping her hand over his mouth, kept the words back.
Meanwhile Percy had rushed out of the house.
"Oh!" cried Polly, when this new alarm sprang up, and everybody was running hither and thither to comfort him by the assurance that Joel was not much hurt, "do, Uncle Mason and Jasper, let me go with you."
"No, no, you stay here, Polly," cried Jasper, throwing wide the heavy front door. "Brother Mason and I will find him. Don't worry, Polly."
"I know I could help," said Polly, hanging over the stair-railing. "Oh! do let me," she begged.