poor, Uncle Richard. Oh! if you
could only--"

"Stop! I wish to hear naught of those fish-folks," cried Trafford.
"Oh! you careless lad, what can I do with you? Are you determined to
catch the fever? Are you bound to be always in danger?"

"No; but it's terrible over there, and--and they're dying with the
sickness, and nothing to make them comfortable! Oh! how can I help it,
Uncle Richard?"

Trafford looked into the lad's earnest eyes and sighed. "Would you
like to take the fever and be buried with the rest up there in the
sand?" he asked.

Noll shivered a little, and answered, "No, I don't want to die, Uncle
Richard. But I think I ought to help them all I can, over there, for
all that. And it's such a little--such a _very_ little--that I can do!
Oh! Uncle Richard, don't you think it is terrible to see them so
wretched, and no one to help them?"

"I don't see them!" said Trafford; "I should know nothing of it but
for you, and I don't want you to see them or know aught of the misery
or the sickness. Do you understand?"

Noll looked at his uncle as if he failed to comprehend.

"You don't mean that I'm not to go there any more?" he said.

"Yes, since you are not disposed to incline to my wishes, I must
command you. You are not to go near--"

This time it was Noll who interrupted. Before Trafford could finish
his command, the boy had taken two or three quick steps forward and
clasped his arms so quickly and convulsively about the stern man's
neck that he was startled into silence.

"Don't, don't say that, Uncle Richard!" cried Noll; "I couldn't mind
you if you did! It wouldn't be right,--when they're all sick and
almost starving,--and I couldn't do it, and it is not as papa told me
to do! And--"

Trafford endeavored to release Noll's hold, but the boy only clung the
tighter, exclaiming,--

"No, no! don't say it, Uncle Richard, for I couldn't mind you! Papa
never would wish me to! And oh, why don't _you_ help those poor, dying
people? Why don't you help them, Uncle Richard? Why don't you,--why
_don't_ you?"

Surprised at this unusual vehemence on the part of his nephew,
Trafford was silent, hardly knowing whether to be angry or
indifferent. That this matter lay very near the boy's heart, he had no
longer any doubt. What could he do with him?

"Noll," said he after a long silence, "do you mean that you will not
obey me?"

The boy hesitated. "In everything else, Uncle Richard,