see me, and with nothing on my head but a
red handkerchief, tied under my chin, Waldo; and to hide in a sloot the
whole day, with not a mouthful of food, Waldo. And she gave me such a
blow, just here," said Bonaparte.

He had cleared the plate of the last morsel, when Waldo rose and walked
to the door.

"Oh, Waldo, my dear boy, you are not going to call her," said Bonaparte,
rising anxiously.

"I am going to sleep in the wagon," said the boy, opening the door.

"Oh, we can both sleep in this bed; there's plenty of room. Do stay, my
boy, please."

But Waldo stepped out.

"It was such a little whip, Waldo," said Bonaparte, following him
deprecatingly. "I didn't think it would hurt you so much. It was such a
little whip. I am sure you didn't take the peaches. You aren't going to
call her, Waldo, are you?"

But the boy walked off.

Bonaparte waited till his figure had passed round the front of the
wagon-house, and then slipped out. He hid himself round the corner, but
kept peeping out to see who was coming. He felt sure the boy was gone
to call Tant Sannie. His teeth chattered with inward cold as he looked
round into the darkness and thought of the snakes that might bite him,
and the dreadful things that might attack him, and the dead that might
arise out of their graves if he slept out in the field all night. But
more than an hour passed and no footstep approached.

Then Bonaparte made his way back to the cabin. He buttoned the door
and put the table against it and, giving the dog a kick to silence his
whining when the foot throbbed, he climbed into bed. He did not put out
the light, for fear of the ghost, but, worn out with the sorrows of the
day, was soon asleep himself.

About four o'clock Waldo, lying between the seats of the horse-wagon,
was awakened by a gentle touch on his head.

Sitting up, he espied Bonaparte looking through one of the windows with
a lighted candle in his hand.

"I'm about to depart, my dear boy, before my enemies arise, and I could
not leave without coming to bid you farewell," said Bonaparte.

Waldo looked at him.

"I shall always think of you with affection" said Bonaparte. "And
there's that old hat of yours, if you could let me have it for a
keepsake--"

"Take it," said Waldo.

"I thought you would say so, so I brought it with me," said Bonaparte,
putting it on. "The Lord bless you, my dear boy. You haven't a few
shillings--just a trifle you don't need--have you?"

"Ta