H, Tom,” said Minnie, “is not this a terrible misfortune that has happened to poor Mrs. Bright?” Tom gave a sort of grunt of assent.
“And the baby so ill! Mother doubts if he will live over the night! I am glad that you found the doctor so soon. But what can have become of dear little Johnny? The Barnes and the Smiths have been all on the search; they say that if the wind had not been blowing the dust so much along the lane, the little fellow might have been tracked by his footsteps. No one can imagine where he can have gone,—he is so[118] very young,—so unable to wander far. Poor Polly! I am so sorry for her!”
“I wish that you would not be talking for ever about Johnny!” exclaimed Tom in a petulant tone.
“How can one think or talk of anything else?” replied Minnie sadly,—“I did so love that noble boy!”
“Have done with it!” cried her brother, more angrily than before.
Minnie looked at him with pain, and then said in a low tone, “I thought that you had even joined in the search.”
“I have joined,—I would give anything to find him!” exclaimed Tom, striking his hand on the table as he spoke, with such passionate energy that he almost startled his sister.
“Did you see nothing of the dear child,” said Minnie, as a thought suddenly occurred to her, “when you came to our cottage,—just before you went for the doctor, you know?”
[119]“Didn’t I tell you that I wanted to hear no more about the matter!” cried Tom, his whole face becoming the colour of crimson.
Minnie’s eyes were fixed upon him, steadily, earnestly; rude, bold boy as he was, he shrank from her piercing gaze. Going nearer to her brother, and speaking very distinctly, but in a voice hardly above a whisper, she said, “I believe that you know more about Johnny than you will tell.”
“Believe what you like, and let me alone.”
“Tom, I implore you, hide nothing from us. Oh, think of the misery of the poor broken-hearted mother!” and she laid her hand upon his arm.
“Speak another word and I’ll strike you!” cried Tom, roughly shaking her off.
“Strike me if you will, but I must speak. Where did you see that child last?”
“You can get nothing out of me,” growled Tom.
“Then I must call those who can,” said Minnie firmly, turning round as if to quit[120] the cottage. “This is a matter of life or death.” She looked pale, but very determined.
“Whom are you going to call?” said Tom, his manner betraying some fear.
“My mother—if necessary, the clergyman—or—the magistrate!”
Tom caught her by the arm as he exclaimed, “Stop, Minnie, oh, stop,—you shall hear all and judge! I don’t know where the boy is,—I would give my right hand that I did. It is true that I saw him last, and I have searched all the place again and again. You would not betray me—you would not, Minnie?—you might ruin me, but could not help Johnny. Sit down here, and listen to me quietly, and you shall know everything that has happened!”
Minnie sat down beside him, her heart beating fast. He gave her a short but true account of what had passed, omitting, however, some little particulars which we shall relate more at length.
[121]You will remember that we left poor Johnny crying in the lane, vainly trying to call back his sister, as she hurried in pursuit of the pedlar. When the child found his terrors unheeded, his loud roar gradually sank into a low broken sob, he scrambled to his feet, rubbed his plump dusty hand across his eyes to brush away the tears, and began to think of trotting back to the cottage.
Just as the little fellow was commencing his journey, he heard a voice call him from the other side of the hedge which bordered the narrow lane. At first, fancying that it might be silly Sally, with whom he had been threatened, Johnny was inclined to run the faster for the call; but he soon knew Tom, when he saw him clambering over and holding something in his hand.
“Here’s something for you, my jolly little man!” cried Tom, who amused himself sometimes by playing with, but more often by teasing, his little rosy-cheeked neighbour.
“What got?” asked the child, as Tom[122] jumped down beside him. Johnny was always sparing of his words.
 
A NEST OF LITTLE BIRDS.
“A nest of little birds that was swinging on a bough. I knocked off the nest, and down came the birds!”
“All dead!” said Johnny sadly.
“Why, yes; you see they had some way[123] to fall. The little things broke their necks, so there was an end of them.”
[124]
 
TOM TEASING JOHNNY
[125]“Poor ’ittle birds! knocked off tree!” said the pitying child. Tom was provoked at seeing the pity.
“What a silly little goose you are, Johnny! It was fine fun to set nest and all a-flying, and finish the whole family at once!”
But whatever might be the opinion of Tom, the plump little cottager kept to his own............