How I longed to comfort him, but I could do nothing, for when I put my head down to him he pushed it away.
What a pity that he was not more of a man! His trouble was serious, but it was not hopeless, and at last to my joy he got up, straightened his clothing, and going to a small looking glass on a post arranged his tie, then dipping his handkerchief in the running water in my stall mopped his flushed and swollen face with it.
Then he came back and stared at me strangely. "I can't stand it—I shall run away. Shall I take this fellow or my own?—— My own," he repeated.
"Oh! my heart," and he laid his head on his arm and sobbed like a baby. "I have nothing—I own nothing—I am a nobody."
Finally there was another call, "First-born, First-born—where are you?"
He trembled from head to foot. That was his father's very choicest pet name for him, bestowed only in moments of great affection. Springing to the harness-room, he hid himself in a closet while I paced slowly out and met Mr. Devering, who greeted me kindly and said, "What have you done with my lad, Bonnie Prince? They said he was with you."
I saw in a flash that Cassowary had either lied or was mistaken. No man could look like that when he spoke of a boy that was not his own. Oh! how could this boy doubt his father? However I could not honourably lead the way to the spot where the unhappy lad was hiding, so I stepped out beside Mr. Devering and went with him down to the house where I took my usual station under the lilacs, my ears turned forward to catch all that was going on.
The family was having afternoon tea in honour of Mr. Devering's arrival, and a table laden with cakes, bread and jam and hot muffins was set out on the veranda. Mrs. Devering was pouring tea and Champ and Mr. Macdonald passed the cups.