THE LITTLE RED HOUSE.
The scene around had changed during the half-hour.
Angry looking clouds were coming up on all sides, and heavy drops of
rain were falling.
"What _shall_ we do?" cried Ben. "Your coach has been stolen, Kit.
What will they say at home? Oh dear--dear! Some tramps have got it.
We must follow on, and perhaps we'll overtake it."
"I don't like the lightning, Ben," cried Kit.
"And this rain will soak you through; keep close up to the hedge a
few minutes, while I wrap you in the shawl. It's a good thing I took
that with us."
He wrapped Kit up as warmly as possible, and made her sit down behind
him while he kept the rain off her as best he could. Tears of
vexation rolled down his cheeks as he thought, "things seem to be all
going wrong," and he absently put his hands in his pockets. Doing
so, he laid hold of the two little texts Miss Randolphe had given
him--"Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, and forever" (Heb.
xiii. 8). Her words occurred to his mind--Yesterday means long ago
when He died on the cross for us and put away our sin; To-day means
now while He helps us along the narrow path; and Forever, when we
will be with Him safe in heaven.
"All right," thought Ben, "if Jesus keeps the same, He won't forget
_us_, but He'll help us safe through all this trouble we've got into.
There's another flash, Kit! We mustn't stay here, it is not safe; I
heard father say, people are struck dead under trees and such like
when the lightning flashes. What was that! It sounded like some one
crying out? Listen." But a peal of thunder drowned every other
sound. "I suppose it was only my fancy. Now Kit, stand on that old
tree--that's it, and put your arms round my neck, and I'll sling the
shawl right over your head and bind you on my back, and run away home
as fast as I can, then I'll come back and look after the 'coach.'"
Kit did as she was bid, and with his precious burden on his back, Ben
ran as fast as he could down the hill. The rain pelted upon them,
and the little boy panted for breath, but he struggled on till the
little red cottage came in sight.
"We must try and get in here," he gasped, and upon reaching the door,
he rapped.
A woman past middle age opened the door, and looked greatly surprised
at seeing Ben with the little girl's head peeping out above his
shoulders.
"Please let us in; the gentleman who walks in the woods to keep the
public off, told us to come here till the thunder was over," cried
Ben.
The woman drew the children inside the door, and asked them to walk
in and dry themselves at the kitchen fire, while they told her all
that had happened.
She had a sweet sad face, with grey banded hair, and though her dress
was very plain, almost poor, yet it was very neat. A younger woman,
with a baby in her arms, stood by the fire.
"It's an awful storm for such little children to be out in. Tell us
all about it, my lad, and how you met our Michael!" said the elder
woman, lifting Kit on her knee.
Thus encouraged, Ben began at the beginning and told all about the
excursion, the bird's nest, the meeting with Michael, and the loss of
the "coach."
The women were loud in their sympathy, and said it was a strange
thing that it should be stolen so quickly.
"Directly I've taken little Kit home, I shall run and have another
look round just in case someone has moved it and it is still
somewhere about," said Ben.
"Yes, it would be worth while to do that," she answered.
While they were speaking, the sound of a hollow cough was heard in
the next room, and a feeble voice asked--
"Who is that?"
"That's John," said the elder woman, rising and going towards the
next room.
"Who is John? your little boy?" asked Ben.
"He was my little boy once, he's a big boy now, and he's very ill,
but that would be nothing if I knew he was happy." She returned in a
minute, saying, "John wanted to see the children; he has always been
fond of children." Mrs. Craig lifted Kit up into the next room, and
Ben followed.
The sick man lay on a little bed in one corner; everything around was
comfortable and neat, and a few flowers stood beside him in a tumbler
of water. His face was sallow and sunken, and his dark hair, which
was long and straight, was brushed off his forehead; but he had a
pleasant, kindly smile, and he greeted the children warmly.
"I was always fond of little children," he said, shaking his head
from side to side, and speaking with difficulty, for his breath was
short and troublesome. "The Lord said 'except ye become as little
children.' I wish _I_ could do that." He went on to speak to them
as well as he was able, asking them how they were caught in the
storm, and so on.
"They met Michael," said the mother, "and he sent them here. Michael
has a kind heart though he speaks sternly when on duty."
Ben was standing by the window, and now and then casting anxious
glances out at the storm, which seemed to be subsiding. Suddenly he
ran towards the door crying, "There's father passing."
And so it was; Mr. Gray, with rapid strides, was passing up the hill,
and heeding little the rain and storm.
"Call him in, he is looking for you, no doubt," said Mrs. Craig, and
Ben ran out and brought him in. He, in his turn, was surprised, and
very thankful to find the children safe.
Ben's heart beat very quick at the thought of the perambulator, and
he anxiously waited the moment when he should speak of it.
Meanwhile, Mr. Gray, after hearing about the children, was having a
little talk with the mother, who was telling him about her sick son.