Part 15 (1/2)

”What if Stephen is not dead?”

”Not dead--that's nonsense. But it's half-past ten, and I'm going to bed.”

Nevertheless Maggie Bunny lay awake late that night. What if Stephen Lamport should not be dead? she kept ever thinking to herself.

At last she stole out of bed and prayed in the dim light for Halsa and Galbraith. When she rose she felt comforted and refreshed. She stole back slowly; Bunny was asleep, and she looked at his face.

”He is a good man,” she murmured; ”but----”

CHAPTER VI.

MASTER EDWARD BUNNY.

Mr. Sarkies lived with his widowed mother and an unmarried aunt, an elderly spinster, in a small house behind that occupied by the Bunnys.

The family were of Armenian descent, although they were unwilling to own the fact. Wherever they went, however, they bore the cachet of their origin with them in their noses, the insignia of race bestowed upon them by Providence. When the wave of religious enthusiasm swept over Bombay it caught up among other flotsam the Sarkies family. The head of the house died shortly after this event, making a most edifying end. He left a little money, and his son was educated as well as it was possible for a man of his cla.s.s, and was now an a.s.sistant accountant in the great firm of Apc.o.o.n Brothers, and in receipt of a salary of about two hundred pounds a year. Of a light, volatile character by nature, the strain of having to live under the restraints of the sect to which he belonged was sometimes too much for Sarkies, and he often broke out occasionally, as on the memorable Sunday when the elder fell foul of him, with disastrous results to himself. He was idolized by his mother and his aunt, and was a contributor to the Poet's Corner of the Bombay Bouncer. He had been much touched by the emotion displayed by Lizzie Bullin when the elder attacked him. He sat up half the night pouring his feelings into verse. He rose early, and copied the verses out neatly on a piece of bright pink Baskeville paper, with a blue J. S. in rustic letters on the top. This he folded carefully in an envelope, but did not address it. ”Don't want rows,”

he said emphatically to himself. His excitement was so great that he contented himself with about one-third of his usual quant.i.ty of curry for breakfast, and, entering his buggy, a legacy from his father, in which an old flea-bitten Arab worked loyally, he drove toward his place of business.

”Mind and come back earlee, Jimmee!” screamed his aunt after him.

”Yes, auntee,” and the buggy rattled out of the gate on to the road, a cloud of dust rising behind it.

He had not gone far when he saw Eddy Bunny before him, walking to school, a satchel full of books swinging in his hand. A happy thought struck Sarkies; Eddy Bunny attended the High School, where both boys and girls were taught, in different cla.s.ses, however. Now Sarkies knew that a small sister of Lizzie's was also a pupil at the school. If he could only induce Eddy to give the verses to Florry they would be sure to reach safely. He pulled up, therefore.

”Hallo, Eddy!”

”Hallo!” shouted back the boy, making a shambling sort of salute.

”Want a lift?--drive you to school.”

”Orright,” and Eddy climbed in.

”When I grow up I'm going to get a buggy better than this.”

Sarkies felt a little nettled, but made no reply. He hit the horse smartly, and the beast kicked up its heels, and then went on.

”I say, give me the whip.”

”Here you are; and look here, Eddy, I want you to do something for me.”

”Aw!”

”Do you know Florry Bullin?”

”She's my sweetheart,” replied Eddy; ”I'm going to marry her when I grow up.”

Better and better, thought Sarkies. ”Well, look here, Eddy: Lizzie is _my_ sweetheart, and I want to marry her.”