“Certainly.”
“We must not disturb anyone in the house. It is better that I should tell you what to do now, so that we need not talk when we reach there.”
“We cannot help disturbing someone.”
“I do not think it will be necessary. If you will stay with Arthur, I will go for the doctor, and no one need know.”
“I will go for the doctor.”
“You do not know the way. It is five or six miles. I will ride Gypsy, and will soon be back.”
“But there are prowlers and stragglers all along the roads. It is not safe for you to go alone.”
“It is perfectly safe. No horse that the stragglers have stolen can overtake Gypsy. Now, don’t say anything more. It is best that I should go. I will run on ahead, and enter the house quietly. I will take the lamp to the room at the side, where the window opens to the floor. Carry him around there. I will be waiting for you at the gate, and will show you the way.”
With that the girl was off, and Renmark carried his burden alone. She was waiting for him at the gate, and silently led the way round the house, to where the door-window opened upon the bit of lawn under an apple tree. The light streamed out upon the grass. He placed the boy gently upon the dainty bed. It needed no second glance to tell Renmark whose room he was in. It was decorated with those pretty little knickknacks so dear to the heart of a girl in a snuggery she can call her own.
“It is not likely you will be disturbed here,” she whispered, “until I come back. I will tap at the window when I come with the doctor.”