“Is Percy there?” she cried.
The cart stopped abruptly, and a strange voice replied,—
“Yes—safe and well and fast asleep.”
The words fell like music on the girl’s ears. It was too dark to see anything but the shadowy form of the cart and of a man walking at the horse’s head. She darted back to the house with the joyful news, and in another minute the cart stood at the door. Percy, who was decidedly enjoying his sleep, felt by no means as grateful as he should have been to find himself disturbed at this early hour of the night.
“All serene! all serene!” he growled, in response to his mother’s caresses and Walker’s effusive shaking of the hand. “I’m all right, mother; I want to go to bed.”
“Get the hot bath ready,” said Mrs Rimbolt to the servants. “My poor boy!”
“I tell you I’m all serene; can’t you let me go to bed?” said the half-awake Percy. “I don’t want anything except sleep.”
“Walker, help Master Percy up to bed; let him take our room, and light a fire in it, and put hot bottles in the bed.”
Percy, thankful to get back to his slumbers at any price, allowed Walker to help him up stairs. At the door of his own room he stopped.
“That will do; you can cut. Walker.”