ship these thirty years.
"But, Lord!" she muttered, "to think of me playing schoolmistress!
What'll I do, I wonder, if these varmints of boys break ship and run
home?"

She might have spared herself this anxiety. The children were all agog to
see the drama out. Would Mr. Samuel recover? And, if not, what would be
done to Tom Trevarthen? They discussed this in eager groups. If any of
them had an impulse to run downhill and cry the news through the village,
Mrs. Purchase's determined slamming and bolting of the playground gate
restrained it--that, and perhaps a thought that by running with the news
they would start the hue-and-cry after Tom.

Hester, having sponged away the blood, found that the cut on Mr. Sam's
temple was nothing to need a doctor, but could be set right by cleansing
and a few strips of plaster. Doubtless the fall had stunned him, and
doubtless he must be in some pain. Yet when at length he groaned and
opened his eyes she could not repress a suspicion (although she hated
herself for it) that in some degree he had been shamming.

"Do not move, please," she commanded gently, snipping at the plaster with
her scissors. "A couple of strips more, then a bandage, and you will soon
be feeling better."

His eyes rolled and fixed themselves on her. "A ministering angel," he
muttered. She caught the words, and turned her head aside with a flush of
annoyance.

"You have an ugly bruise," she told him sharply. "I am going to put a
cool compress on it. You had better close your eyes, or some of the water
will be trickling into them."

He closed them obediently, but asked, "He has gone?"

"Yes."

"Then _you_ are safe at least, thank God!"

Yes, he had taken his hurt in protecting her; and yet something in his
tone caused her to glance, and as if for protection, to the doorway.

"You are comely," he went on slowly, opening his eyes again, and again
rolling that embarrassing gaze upon her. "Your fingers, too, have the
gift of healing."

She could not tell him with what repugnance she brought them to touch him.
Having fastened the bandage firmly, she turned again to the doorway to
summon Mrs. Purchase, but checked herself.

"I want to ask you a favour," she began in a hesitating voice.

"You may ask it confidently."

"I want you to forgive--no, not forgive; that is the wrong word--to be
generous, and not to punish."

Mr. Samuel blinked. "Let him off?" he asked. "Why? What's your
motive?"