stead of forgiving Pidura, he had done something that
perhaps might kill her.

"Be ye kind one to another, tender-hearted, forgiving one another,
even as God, for Christ's sake, hath forgiven you." It was what the
missionary had said.

"I ought to have forgiven Pidura!" Comale's heart cried. "Oh, I am
bad, bad! How can I bear it, to wait till I can go home to see if
all is safe?"

Naturally, Comale's work was not done well, to-day. But he cared
little for criticism of his peeling, when at evening the time came
to go home. He ran all the way. He plunged headlong into the street
where he lived. He ran past the tile-roofed houses. There was his
home's veranda with bunches of bananas hanging in the shade, and a
basket of cocoa-nuts below. Comale hastened in, out of breath, yet
trying to act as if nothing ailed him. Pidura was safe! He saw her.
He found his mother and the baby in another room. Comale drew a long
breath, and tried to stop trembling. His little brothers were in the
street.

It was growing dusk, and another fear beset him. If a serpent had
crawled into the house, the creature might have hidden itself, and
might not come out till sometime in the night. Comale guiltily
slipped into the veranda again. The unprotected portion had not been
discovered. It lay exposed as he had left it.

As well as he could, Comale replaced the cocoanut-husk material, so
that it might be a defense as before. Then he went softly around
within the house, hunting for any possible hiding-place where the
enemy he dreaded might be concealed.

"Comale," said his mother, "what are you doing?" And Comale did not
dare to hunt any more.

He was dreadfully miserable as he lay that night in the darkness. He
could not sleep. He listened for any outcry. To think that he might
have let an enemy into his own home! Comale rose upon his elbow to
listen. The walls of Cingalese houses are not carried up to the
roof, and, because of this, an outcry or conversation in one room
can be heard all over the house. Comale listened. Sometimes he
fancied he heard the sound of something slipping over the matting on
the floor. So worried was he that when he slept it was only by short
naps from which he woke with a start, and resumed his listening.

Toward morning, when light began to come, Comale crept from his
place. He looked toward where his little brothers slept. Hanging
above one of the little boys was a slender dark line. It was alive!
It swayed to