Chapter IV: "professor" Wraggs, the Showman

"MY orders, Mrs. Webster, are to be obeyed."

"But, sir, doesn't it seem a little hard?"

"Hard, or otherwise, my will is law; till my return, Master Weston is to remain a prisoner in his room. His meals may be served in the dining-room as usual, but I forbid one member of my household to hold conversation with him, save yourself." And with a haughty expression on his face, Sir. Herbert abruptly turned away.

The carriage which was to convey him to the station already stood at the gate. It was the evening of the same day on which Gerald had so grievously offended, and Sir Herbert was on the point of returning to town with Mr. Sharpe on an important matter of business. The lawyer saw that it was of little use to plead for the lad, but Gerald, now bitterly repentant, begged to be forgiven.

"I cannot forgive you yet, Gerald," he said, as he coldly repulsed him, "neither shall I be able to trust you again. When I return on Monday, I shall decide on what punishment to inflict."

"I don't want to be shut up alone, uncle. I can't bear it," half sobbed the child. "Won't you forgive me this once?"

As though scorning the boy's distress, he utterly ignored his plea, and Gerald's heart grew hard within him.

Mr. Sharpe, who was a witness of the scene, forbore to make any remark, but his heart was sore for the unhappy child.

* * * * *

The Punch and Judy Showman and his wife were at tea, and right well were they enjoying the meal.

"Season pretty well over now," said the man, "Professor" Wraggs, as he styled himself; "guess we'll have to make a move soon."

"Bless you, Bob! There are plenty of people down at the sea yet. We made a tidy little sum yesterday; you ain't content with your mercies."

"Well, old gal, I daresay you're right. Here, Toby!—" This was addressed to the show dog—"You must have your share."

And so saying, he threw a choice morsel to the clever little animal, whose daily performance at a certain sea-side town on the Suffolk coast, was the delight of a crowd of children.

"Hullo! Little chap, what do you want?" said the "Professor" to a tired-looking boy of about nine years of age, who stood for a moment watching them.

"I'm hungry, that's all," answered the lad, rather wearily.

"Hungry! What, with them nice clothes on yer!" said the man in surprise.

"Lo! Bob, he can't eat his clothes. Come here, little chap," added the woman, addressing the child, "I'll give you a slice of bread and butter; after that, you can run home to your ma."

"I can't, she's too far away, and I've nobody to care for me now."

The boy, who was none other than Gerald Weston, munched his bread and butter as if it were the choicest delicacy he had ever eaten, and well he might, for it was many hours since he had tasted a good meal.

The woman gazed at the boy with an expression almost amounting to tenderness. Only the week before, the worthy couple had followed their only son, a lad of about Gerald's age, to the quiet cemetery, and something about his face reminded her of the child she had lost. A whispered consultation then followed between the husband and wife.

"Just the very thing!" murmured the showman, eyeing the boy up and down, as he sat there enjoying his bread and butter.

Presently the woman said aloud, "How would you like to stay with us, my boy; we'll give you a home and shelter."

Gerald's eyes sparkled, and without waiting to think a second time, he accepted the offer.

"But what about mother?" thought the child a minute later. "I will write her a letter, to tell her where I am. And perhaps when she knows all, she will come and fetch me."

And in due time the letter was written, but his mother, an English governess in a continental city, never received that childish effusion, for Mrs. Wraggs, to whom it was given to post, forgot all about doing so, and the unfortunate missive was lost amongst the stage properties of the Punch and Judy Show.