Part 24 (1/2)

Arrived at the farm, nurse took decided measures, 'You come indoors with me, there's a good child; and let Jack attend to Prince. He will come and tell you when he's better. No, I won't let you take him in your arms again--now I mean it.'

'I must just see him once more; I must, nurse!'

'Ay,' said the farmer, giving nurse a peculiar look, 'she shall have one more look at him, before I take him!'

The sacking was uncovered, and Prince's ears p.r.i.c.ked up and his bright brown eyes sought his little mistress's face. Betty bent over him, and was allowed to kiss the back of his brown silky head. 'My little darling,' she whispered, though tears began to fall again; 'I wish I had been bitten instead of you!' Then turning to Farmer Giles, she said, clasping her little hands in agony of entreaty,--

'You'll be as quick as ever you can, won't you? You won't be more than five minutes bathing his neck and binding it up, will you? and then I'll sit by and nurse him till he gets better. Will you put him in this basket and bring him to me as soon as ever you can?'

'Yes, yes,' said the farmer a little gruffly, and then he went out to the stables; and Betty stood by the kitchen window, too well trained in obedience to attempt to follow him, but with her little heart overflowing with longing to have Prince in her arms again.

'Now,' said nurse very kindly but determinedly, 'come up into the nursery, and let me wash your face and hands and put you on a clean pinafore.'

'He will get better, won't he, nurse? He didn't look very hurt. Can I give him some bread and milk when Farmer Giles brings him in?'

Nurse evaded this question; she seemed ill at ease; and when a few minutes afterwards the report of a gun went off, she started violently, then gave a sigh of relief. Betty was too absorbed in her own thoughts to notice this; and, directly her toilet was finished, she ran downstairs to the kitchen again.

'Has Prince come in, Mrs. Giles? Is he better?'

'Bless your little heart,' said Mrs. Giles, bustling about, 'Jack will be in directly, and he'll tell you.'

And, a few minutes afterwards, Farmer Giles appeared. Betty ran to him with outstretched hands. 'Where is he? Are you going to take me to him?'

The farmer looked helplessly at his wife.

'Where is nurse?' he said.

'Keeping out of the way,' muttered Mrs. Giles.

The farmer fetched a deep breath. 'Come along, then,' he said; 'I've done my best, and mustn't s.h.i.+rk the consequence.'

He took hold of Betty's hand, and led her to the stables; twice he cleared his throat, as if about to speak, and then at the door, keeping one hand on the latch, he put his other one under Betty's little chin and raised her face.

'You'll be a brave, good little maid, won't you?' he said, 'and you'll bear up, for 'tis better for the little dog than to live in suffering.'

He opened the door, and Betty, not in the slightest understanding his words, pushed her way breathlessly in.

There in his basket, cold and stiff, lay poor little Prince! For one minute Betty thought he was asleep, and then the awful truth dawned upon her. With her blue eyes dilating with horror, she turned and faced the old farmer, and every vestige of colour left her cheeks.

'He's not dead!' she cried. 'Wake him up, Mr. Giles; he shan't be dead!'

'My little maid, I'm dreadful sorry for you; but 'tis better so; and his neck were near bitten through; he couldn't have lived long in any case.'

Betty flung herself on the floor with such a sharp wail of despair that Farmer Giles felt a lump rising in his throat He knew there could be no comfort yet for the broken-hearted child; that she must go through her trouble alone--words at such a time were useless; and after watching her for some minutes, he slipped away to fetch nurse to bring her in.

And Betty lay with her arms round Prince's basket, sobbing her very heart out, and feeling as if light and joy and gladness had gone out of her life for ever! When nurse came in a little later, and put a gentle hand on the little crouching figure, Betty turned round, furious in her grief.

'Go away, I shan't leave Prince; I wish I could die! Oh, nurse, nurse!' and a fresh burst of sobs shook her; 'tell me he isn't dead; tell me he isn't!'

Nurse tried in vain to pacify her; Betty was too over-wrought to listen. One thing she stedfastly refused to do, and that was to leave her dog, and nurse finally had to take her up in her arms by force, and carry her, shrieking and struggling, to the house. Poor little Betty did not prove herself a heroine; but nurse made allowance for her, and was unusually patient and tender.