Part 6 (1/2)
”But you will be when the gas is lit, and we are in the house, and you out there in the dark.”
”No, I won't.”
”Why do you wish to stay out there?” Mrs. Platts asked.
”'Cause I ain't fit to stay in the house; I'm too--too bad looking.”
”What shall we do with her? I hate to turn her out again, but I suppose we will be compelled to.”
”Inasmuch as ye did it unto the least of these ye did it unto me,”
said Mr. Platts, in a low voice. ”Let her stay until morning at all events.”
”Why, to be sure she can sleep in the little bedroom off the kitchen, and I can go upstairs for to-night,” said Mary. ”I think she will be all right if she has a bath, and she can wear some of my clothes, if they are too large.”
Mary's heart was touched at the sight of Zula's tears, but the keenest pity filled her heart when she saw the purple marks made by the lash across the tapering shoulders.
”Why, child,” she said, ”what is this?”
”How came these long black marks on you shoulders?”
”Won't you never tell if I'll tell you?”
”No.”
”Sure? 'Cause if they'd find me they'd kill me.”
”Oh, dear, who would kill you?”
”Why, Crisp.”
”And who is Crisp?”
”Why, he's my brother,” Zula said, lowering her voice to a soft whisper, ”and if he finds me he'll kill me.”
”Crisp,” Mary repeated. ”What a funny name. But I thought you said you had no home.”
”Well, I hain't got any, my mam she lets Crisp whip me and they kept me two days and all night without anything to eat and they tied me down to the ground, and I couldn't hardly get up and then I was so lame, and when I got here that nasty boy run against me and hurt me, and it just seems as though I was made to hurt.”
”Poor little girl; it's too bad. What is your name?”
”I hain't got any name but Zula.”
”Zula? Well, I am sure that is a pretty name; but goodness! What a lovely head of hair for such a little mite as you. I wish I had it.”
”I wish I didn't have it, for Crisp pulls it so hard that it seems to me I can't stand it.”
”The wretch,” said Mary, energetically.