Page:Braddon--The Trail of the Serpent.djvu/163

Rh a little boy, in order to make him sharper, as cooks boil down a gallon of gravy to a pint in the manufacture of strong soup. But, however the boy came to be what he was, there he was, holding forth from his pulpit, and handing Richard the regulation basin of broth which composed his supper.

"Now, what you've got to do," said he, "is to get well; for until you are well, and strong too, there ain't the least probability of your bein' able to change your apartments, if you should feel so inclined, which perhaps ain't likely."

Richard looked at the diminutive speaker with a wonderment he could not repress.

"Starin' won't cure you," said his juvenile attendant, with friendly disrespect, "not if you took the pattern of my face till you could draw it in the dark. The best thing you can do is to eat your supper, and to-morrow we must try what we can do for you in the way of port wine; for if you ain't strong and well afore that ere river outside this ere vall goes down, it's a chance but vot it'll be a long time afore you sees the outside of the val in question."

Richard caught hold of the boy's small arm with a grasp which, in spite of his weakness, had a convulsive energy that nearly toppled his youthful attendant from his elevation.

"You never can think of anything so wild?" he said, in a tumult of agitation.

"Lor' bless yer 'art, no," said the boy; "we never thinks of anything vot's wild—our 'abits is business-like; but vot you've got to do is to go to sleep, and not to worrit yourself; and as I said before, I say again, when you're well and strong we'll think about changin' these apartments. We can make excuse that the look-out was too lively, or that the colour of the whitewash was a-hinjurin' our eyesight."

For the first time for many nights Richard slept well; and opening his eyes the next morning, his first anxiety was to convince himself that the arrival of the boy from Slopperton was not some foolish dream engendered in his disordered brain. No, there the boy sat: whether he had been to sleep on the table, or whether he had never taken his eyes off Richard the whole night, there he was, with those eyes fixed, exactly as they had been the night before, on the prisoner's face.

"Why, I declare we're all the better for our good night's rest," he said, rubbing his hands, as he contemplated Richard; "and we're ready for our breakfast as soon as ever we can get it, which will be soon, judging by our keeper's hobnailed boots as is a-comin' down the passage with a tray in his hand."

This rather confused statement was confirmed by a noise in the stone corridor without, which sounded as if a pair of stout working men's bluchers were walking in company with a basin and a teaspoon.