"No, dear, you mustn't come in," she said, kindly. "I know how you love Percy; but her fever seems pretty high, and you mustn't run any risk of catching it. Wait until she is better."
Reba gave a sob and hurried away, dreadfully shocked and frightened. Poor Percy! perhaps it was the sickness coming on that had made her so unlike herself that foolish day when they quarrelled. Reba instinctively hurried to the old church to cry by herself; and having arrived there, she did cry until every tear was spent. Her face was still buried in her apron, when there came echoing through the silent space a rough voice that said, pitifully, "Don't take on so; what is the matter?"
Reba was no coward, but she did give a great leap that brought her to her feet. A boy's face was peering over the gallery at her. It was a homely face, but a kind one. Reba was sure she had never seen it before.
"Who are you? What are you here for?" said she, sharply.
The boy laughed; then he grew sober at once. "I wouldn't tell you," said he, "if I didn't believe you're the 'pon honor sort. As 'tis, I'll tell you the whole truth, and trust you. If you shouldn't be 'pon honor, so much the worse for me. I'm running away."
"Running away from what?" questioned Reba, as sharply as before.
"From a bad master," said the boy, with a scowl, "and I was getting along very well till I hurt this foot of mine, not far from here. When I couldn't drag myself much further, I came in sight of this old church, and crawled in for the night. I was pretty hungry, and perhaps you won't blame me so much if I did rummage over your little traps down there in hopes of finding something to eat. I'm sorry I broke the mug; I hit it in the dark; and now you won't blame the other one, will you? I meant, any way, to clear her before I went."
"You've been here ever since?" cried Reba; "and do you mean to say you haven't had anything else to eat?"
"Oh yes," said the boy, cheerfully; "when I found I couldn't get along further till my foot healed, I hobbled out and found roots and berries quite near."
Reba loved adventures, and in Plumley adventures happened but rarely. She made much of this one, only longing for Percy to share it. How she enjoyed taking meat, bread, and fruit to the refugee in their own old church, tyrannizing over him, and making him bathe, bandage, and salve his injured foot just as she said, coaxing him to tell her the whole story of his hard life, and contriving a couch for him out of the few faded melancholy cushions to be found on the premises!