Part 2 (1/2)

'I won't!' said the voice again.

'Perhaps he's frightened,' suggested Betty, peeping in under her cousin's arm. 'G.o.dfrey dear, I'm your Aunt Elizabeth. Come and have your supper, dear, I am sure you're hungry.'

'I don't want my Aunt Elizabeth, nor my supper,' said the rebellious voice from the chaise. 'I am going to turn this carriage the other way, and the horses will take me to the s.h.i.+p, and the s.h.i.+p will take me home.'

'The horses will take you to the stable, sir,' said the exasperated Mr.

Crayshaw, 'and you can stay there if you prefer it to obeying me.'

'They will take me to the s.h.i.+p,' said the child's voice inside.

'They will do nothing of the kind, because you are to come with me instantly,' said the gentleman, with his foot on the step.

He made a dive into the chaise, there was the sound of a scuffle, then the clear voice could be heard exclaiming:

'Bad man, you are to let me go.'

'I shall do nothing of the sort, sir.'

'Then I'll be a leech.'

The next moment there was a sort of spring from a little dark figure, and Mr. Crayshaw stumbled out of the chaise, with a small boy holding tightly to his leg.

'Let go of me directly, you abominable child!' he cried, but the small arms only tightened their grip of his knee, the thin legs twisted closely round his ankle, and I am afraid even that a set of very white sharp little teeth were fastened in the black knee breeches. Poor Mr.

Crayshaw! It was not a dignified position for a very stiff and solemn London lawyer to have to hop along a gravelled path with a little boy hanging on to his leg. He made a desperate attempt to unclasp the clutching fingers, but the sharp teeth were so uncomfortably near his hand that he gave that up and tried kicking. It did not make it easier for him either to know that his appearance had been quite too much for the auntly gravity of Betty, who had her hands over her face to keep herself from screaming with laughter, while the driver and the postilion were watching with their mouths expanded into broad grins.

How it would have ended I cannot say; but at this moment Angelica came forward, standing just in the broad ray of light that streamed through the open door. She had put on a white dress, with a broad black sash, and her tall white figure caught G.o.dfrey's eye. He still held on tightly to Mr. Crayshaw, but he called to her, in a voice half trembling, half defiant:

'I'm not afraid of you.'

'I don't want you to be, G.o.dfrey,' said Angel, dreadfully puzzled as to what she ought to do.

'I'm a bad boy,' announced her nephew, with a fresh grip of his victim's leg, 'but if you turn me into a scorpion I'll sting him and kill him.'

Betty tried to stifle a fresh explosion of laughter; Angel looked in dismay at Mr. Crayshaw's black face, then stooped down and laid her gentle hand quickly on G.o.dfrey's arm.

'Let go, dear, there's a good boy,' she said softly. 'Please do, because I want to speak to you.'

Her nephew looked straight at her for a moment, and then suddenly relaxed his hold and dropped down on the path at her feet. Mr.

Crayshaw, feeling, perhaps, that he would gain nothing by stopping to scold, and just a little afraid of being seized by the other leg, muttered something indistinctly and walked into the house, limping a little, for G.o.dfrey's feet and fingers had left their mark. Angel stooped down and laid her hand on the little boy's shoulder, and he caught hold of her dress and looked up in her face.

'I know all about you,' he said; 'you're a white witch. I am a bad boy, but I'm going to be good now, quite good. If I do everything you tell me, and promise not to be a leech again, and give you all the money in my pocket, will you make me into a bird, so that I can fly over the sea and back home to Biddy? Will you, white witch, will you?'

He had risen to his feet and was looking at her with such a white earnest face, and she could feel the thin little hands trembling as they clutched her dress. Angelica hardly knew what to say with those great eyes, grey eyes like Betty's, devouring her face.

'G.o.dfrey, dear,' she said gently, 'you're mistaken, dear, I'm not a witch at all; I'm your papa's sister. I loved your papa and I want to love you, if you'll let me. I want you to come into the house with me, and I know you will be good.'

The child looked steadily at her for a minute, as if to make quite sure that she was speaking the truth, then his lips suddenly began to quiver.

'Can't I--can't I--go back, then?' he said, pressing his thin little hands tight together.