“I don’t know, miss; perhaps it’s his hat he’s troubled about.”
The lad turned quickly at the word hat, nodded his head emphatically, and showed two rows of white, handsome teeth in a broad, satisfied smile.
“M’ha! m’ha!” he repeated, and then there followed a lot of gibberish that was wholly unintelligible to his listeners.
“How strangely he appears!” Gladys exclaimed, regarding him curiously.
“He do, indeed, miss. The poor chap is an idiot, or I’m much mistaken.”
“An idiot! Oh, how dreadful! Poor boy,” cried Gladys, pityingly. Then she added, soothingly: “Never mind your hat, papa shall buy you another.”
The young stranger nodded contentedly, as if he understood her, while his great blue eyes were fixed earnestly and confidingly on her face.
“What is your name and where do you live?” continued the young girl, wondering what she should do with him now that she had rescued him from his persecutors, if he could not tell where he belonged.
The only answer to this query was a senseless smile, accompanied by a low crooning sound of contentment.
“Oh, dear! can’t you talk at all? What is your name? you must tell me or I shall not know where to take you,” said Gladys, beginning to look greatly disturbed, and wondering what would be the result of this strange adventure.