When he got to the stable, a black cloud was just passing over the moon, and it was quite dark.
"Where are you?" whispered Lawrence, groping about. "Where are you? Speak to me."
"I am here; give me your hand."
Lawrence stretched out his hand.
"Is that your hand?" said the wicked boy, as Lawrence laid hold of him. "How cold it felt!"
"Let us go back," said Lawrence; "it is not time yet."
"It is no time to go back," replied the other, opening the door; "you've gone too far now to go back;" and he pushed Lawrence into the stable. "Have you found it? Take care of the horse—have you done? What are you about? Make haste, I hear a noise," said the stable-boy, who watched at the door.
"I am feeling for the half-crown, but I can't find it."
"Bring all together." He brought Jem's broken flower-pot, with all the money in it, to the door.
The black cloud was now passed over the moon, and the light shone full upon them.