Me and Nobbles | Page 8

our brekfus ourselves.'
'May he never disappoint you!'

Mr. Mortimer murmured the words, and happily Bobby did not hear
them. That evening he and Nobbles were too excited to sleep. In
rehearsing his day to himself, Bobby began to think of many such
blissful times in the future; he pictured them to Nobbles, his father
being the centre-piece. And then he stopped talking and began to listen
for the knock that was to come. There was great silence in the nursery.
Nurse had gone downstairs to her supper, leaving the night-light as
usual upon the washing-stand in the corner of the room. Suddenly
Bobby sprang up, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson, his little heart
galloping wildly, There was no possible mistake this time. A sharp
rat-tat on his door.
'Come in!'
How often he had rehearsed his answer to the knock! Why was it that
his voice was so husky? Why were his knees trembling so? He was out
of his bed now, standing in the middle of the room, a pathetic little
figure with his pink bare feet and tumbled curls, and Nobbles clasped
in his arms.
The door opened. Bobby drew a long, shivering sigh. A huge,
black-bearded man in a striped blanket came in. He carried a gun, and
an axe was fastened to his belt. He was very tall, and his voice was very
gruff.
'Are you Robert Stuart Allonby? I have come to take him away.'
In an instant, with outstretched arms, Bobby sprang forward, 'Father!
I'm ready!'
That was all he said; but as the big man lifted him up Bobby buried his
face in the bushy black beard and clasped him round his neck, and a
quiver ran through his little body as he whispered in a fervour of joy,
'I'll come with you. Why have you been so long? Oh, father, darling,
take me quick, and never let me come back to this old house again.'
'Are you ready to camp out amongst fierce Indians in the wild woods?'

'I'll love to.'
'Where the wolves prowl round at night?'
'I'll be with you.'
'You'll have to ride a wild pony; you will be out in the rain and cold.
You'll have to cut down trees and earn your bread. Sometimes you'll be
hungry and cold and tired; there'll be no one to look after you. You'll
have to rough it. So you want to come? Now? Right away?'
'Right away!' repeated Bobby, squeezing tighter round the stranger's
neck. 'I'll be with you, father. You'll never leave me again!'
There was such infinite trust and tenderness in the child's voice that the
big man wavered, put Bobby down on the floor, tore off his beard and
blanket, and revealed himself as Master Mortimer. 'Upon my word
you're a plucky little 'un!'
Bobby stared up at him with horror-struck eyes. For the space of a
moment his uncle felt thoroughly ashamed of himself, much as if he
were meeting the gaze of a faithful dog he was ill-treating, for the look
on the child's face was a broken-hearted one. He stood there with a
quivering lip in perfect silence; then turned, crept into his bed again,
and lay down with his face to the wall.
Nobbles was left upon the floor.
His uncle took a quick step up to the bed.
'Sorry, old fellow; it was a piece of fun. I didn't think you would take it
so hard. Did you really think it was your father? I hoped I might put
you off him.'
Bobby did not raise his head; he was terribly ashamed of tears, but his
little chest was heaving with the bitterness of his disappointment, and
he had stuffed a corner of his pillow into his mouth to stifle his sobs.
His self-restraint made his uncle feel more uncomfortable. He sat down

by his bed and lifted him out bodily upon his knees, and he tried to
soothe him as a woman might.
'I declare, if you were a little older you and I would go off on a tour
round the world and search for this runaway father of yours.'
This idea was a risky one to propose, but he felt desperate at the sight
of the child's grief.
Bobby raised his eyes for the first time. The tears did not hide the dawn
of hope springing up in them.
'I'm old enough,' he said, choking down a sob; 'please take me.'
'It wouldn't do, and we might miss him; he might arrive after you had
gone.'
'Me and Nobbles could go and look for him our own selves,' Bobby
said very thoughtfully. 'We would just ask and ask till they told us
where he was.'
His uncle began to feel uneasy. 'No, that's quite the wrong way about.
He must