He did not want his whereabouts to be discovered
before he should have been able to raise a healthy and
dividend-bringing crop of remorse in the hearts of the Mistress
and the Master, so he resolved to go farther afield.
In the back of the meadow, across the road, and on the hither
side of the forest, was a disused cattle-barrack, with two stalls
under its roof-pile of hay. The barrack was one of Cyril's
favorite playhouses. It was dry and tight. Through his thick
clothing he was not likely to be very cold, there, for an hour or
two. He could snuggle down in the warm hay and play Indians, with
considerable comfort; until such time as the fright and penitence
of his hosts should have come to a climax and make his return an
ovation.
Meanwhile, it would be fun to picture their uneasiness and fear
for his safety; and to visualize their journeyings through the
snow to the houses of various neighbors, in search of the lost
child.
Buoyed up by such happy thoughts as these, Cyril struck out at a
lively pace for the highroad and into the field beyond. The
barrack, he knew, lay diagonally across the wide meadow, and near
the adjoining woods.
Pages:
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209