peter perry was blind! tom, startled and immeasurably shocked, could scarcely credit it till his mother had added her testimony to nellie's, and explained that the afflicted boy had been blind from birth.
"isn't it dreadfully sad?" said nellie, surprised at the silence with which her brother had taken the information she had given him, and little guessing the tumult of emotions which were stirring in his breast.
"yes," he assented, adding, "oh, i wish i'd known this before!"
"i didn't tell him you believed he had kept on cutting you," nellie remarked; "i thought there was no need to do that. everything's explained now that we know he's blind."
during tea the conversation was mostly about miss perry and her nephew, but tom took little part in it. by listening he learnt all he desired to know. mrs. burford had returned shortly after he had left the house, it appeared, and nellie had talked to peter whilst her mother answered the questions miss perry had put concerning jane.
"i never spoke to anyone who was blind before," nellie observed by and by; "i'm sure peter perry doesn't look blind, does he, mother?"
"no, my dear," mrs. burford replied; "his eyes are not disfigured in any way."
"what's wrong with them?" asked tom.
"there is something amiss with the nerves at the back of them," mrs. burford answered; "i don't quite understand what it is, but whatever it is, is incurable."
"he will never be able to see as long as he lives," said nellie, very solemnly; "he told me so himself."
"did he seem much cut up about it?" inquired tom.
nellie shook her head. "he seemed quite bright and happy," she said. "i like him ever so much. he made me promise to speak to him when we meet out of doors, and, of course, i shall."
later, when tom was alone with his sister, he began, with a note of severity in his voice, "now tell me all you said to peter perry, nellie. did you mention that shilling?"
"yes," she admitted, "i did, because i wanted to hear what he had to say. i told him how upset you had been about it, and he was awfully, awfully sorry—you thought he was, didn't you? of course, if he had seen you it wouldn't have happened—he wouldn't have dreamed of giving you money, i mean. he said he'd like to be friends with us, if we didn't mind, and i promised to speak to you about it. the next time you meet him do tell him you're willing to be friends!"
"perhaps i will. what else did he talk about?"
"oh, about dogs, and motor-cars, and—and i told him i'd never ridden in a motor-car in my life, and i believe he's going to ask his aunt to take me for a drive in hers one day—he said he would. then he told me about himself. he has no sisters or brothers, and his mother's dead, but he has a father who's coming to fetch him at the end of september. he says it's dull visiting at halcyon villa, though his aunt is very, very kind to him, but she's so afraid some harm will come to him that she will hardly let him out of her sight. so it was just as i guessed, you see, though of course i didn't think he was blind."
tom made no response to this, nor did he ask any more questions. the next morning, after going with his father to the bank, he decided he would take tim for a stroll past halcyon villa, and then, if he should happen to see peter perry, he would speak to him. "bounce ought to have had a good thrashing when he got home last night," he reflected, as, on nearing miss perry's pretty, creeper-covered house, he motioned tim to keep to heel, "but i don't expect he did. if i see his master i shall tell him where he went and what he was doing."
but he did not carry out this intention. peter perry was in the garden, as it happened; he heard tom's footsteps halt at the gate, and quickly made his way to it. "who is it?" he inquired.
"tom burford," was the response.
peter promptly opened the gate and asked tom to come in; but the invitation was politely declined. "i'm afraid you're still angry with me!" peter remarked, regretfully.
"no, indeed i'm not," tom assured him. "but i won't come in, thank you, for i've tim with me, and he'd be sure to fight with bounce."
"bounce is not here," peter said, sadly; "we don't know what has become of him. he's lost."
"lost?" gasped tom.
"yes, lost," peter replied. "he was left chained to his kennel in the yard yesterday afternoon, so that he shouldn't follow aunt harriet and me," he quickly explained, "and somehow he managed to get his head out of his collar—it couldn't have been tight enough, i suppose— and went off by himself. he hasn't come back yet, and i'm afraid that either he's been stolen or trapped—"
"oh, don't think that he's been trapped!" tom broke in; "that would be too awful! i—i—oh, dear, what can i do?" his voice was tremulous and full of distress.
"there isn't anything you can do, thank you," peter answered gratefully; "aunt harriet has sent a description of bounce to the police and told them he's lost, and she's ordered bills to be printed, offering a pound reward to any one who finds him—they are to be posted out over the town. you'll come in now, won't you?"
but tom declined again. "i'll go on to the woods," he said; "if bounce is anywhere there it's just possible tim may find him."
nothing of the kind happened, however, and two hours later found tom, who had searched the woods in vain, in the high road by hatwell green. he was feeling very unhappy, oppressed as he was with the guilty knowledge that he was, in a manner, responsible for the loss of the blind boy's dog.
"i ought to have taken him home to his master yesterday," he thought; "i could have if i'd liked. i knew he might get shot by a gamekeeper or caught in a trap, and i left him to take his chance out of spite."
tom had been taught the golden rule—to do unto others as he would they should do unto him, but yesterday, alas! he had disregarded it, and now he was bitterly ashamed of himself. oh, what a mean spirit he had shown.
the gipsies were still encamped at hatwell green; and to-day moses lee was at home, seated on the steps of his caravan, making clothes-pegs. tom entered into conversation with him, and told him all about bounce, even confessing that he had allowed the dog to remain in the woods to follow his own devices.
"do you think you could find the rabbit hole where you left him?" moses inquired, after the boy had finished his tale.
"oh, yes!" tom answered; "it's close to that big beech tree by the gate at the entrance to the woods, in a bit of old hedge full of rabbit holes. i've been there to-day—not that i thought i should find him there, of course. i dare say after he'd grown tired of digging he wandered miles away."
"my wife and little maid have gone into chilaton," the gipsy remarked, changing the conversation; "we're off to-morrow, all of us. zingra won't forget that dog of yours'—nodding at tim; you'd best keep an eye on him or he will be lost, too!"
this was meant as a joke, of course, and tom laughed, but only half-heartedly. he was moving on, when the gipsy called after him: "a pound reward, i think you said, young gentleman?"
"yes," tom assented, "and the address is halcyon villa."
"i wish i could earn that pound!" exclaimed the man, looking thoughtful.
"i wish you could!" tom answered, fervently.
he saw no one as he passed halcyon villa on his backward journey, which he made as quickly as possible. on his arrival at home nellie met him at the front door, a flush of excitement on her cheeks: "oh, tom, here you are at last!" she cried; "where have you been all the morning? i've been out with mother, and what do you think? peter perry has lost his dog. there are notices in a lot of shop windows saying so, and offering a pound reward to any one who finds him, and— oh, you know all about it."
"i've seen peter perry, and he told me," tom replied, gloomily; "he's awfully cut up."
"oh, he would be. what do you think can have become of bounce?"
tom shook his head. "i've spent the morning in searching for him in the woods," he said; "but i've come across no sign of him."
"but he mayn't have gone to the woods."
"oh, yes—that is, i feel sure he would. i'm afraid something must have happened to him, or he wouldn't have stayed out all night."
"i'm afraid so, too. oh, it's dreadful! poor peter perry! oh, what should we feel if we'd lost our tim!"
tom was so miserably unhappy thinking of bounce that he had not the heart to go out again that day. he stayed indoors, not doing anything, and looking so altogether out of sorts that by and by his mother inquired if he was feeling unwell; whereupon he said that he was well enough, but that he was sick of the holidays and everything, an answer which brought a grieved look to her face. a short while later he spoke so sharply to nellie because she kept on asking what was the matter with him, that he made her cry, after which his conscience pricked him for his unkindness to his little sister, and he finally went to bed in such a state of nervous irritability and remorse that it was hours before he could get to sleep.
the following morning he awoke early with the feeling that something of a disastrous nature had occurred; and immediately his thoughts flew to the blind boy and his dog. then a brilliant idea occurred to him. he would get up and go to halcyon villa before breakfast, and ascertain if bounce had returned. in another moment he was out of bed.
it was nearly seven o'clock by the time tom reached halcyon villa, but every blind in the house was down. he was panting, for he had run all the way from ladysmith terrace, so he stood waiting at the front door, before ringing, to regain his breath. whilst he stood thus he heard the wheels of a heavy vehicle rumbling in the road, and then a red and yellow caravan came in sight, which he recognised as the lees'. to his amazement it drew up to the gate.
"why is it stopping here, i wonder?" muttered tom. "oh!" the "oh" was a cry of mingled joy and relief, and the next moment he was running across the lawn to meet moses lee, who had entered the garden leading an irish terrier at the end of a piece of rope. the gipsy had found the wanderer and brought him home.
