Early the next morning they would be
at Monkhaven. The children were fast asleep; so were Peter and his wife
and baby. Only Tim was awake. He had asked to stay on deck, as he was
quite warm with a rug which Mrs. Peter lent him, and the cabin was full
enough. It was a lovely night, and the boy lay looking at the stars
overhead thinking, with rather a heavy heart. The nearer they got to the
children's home the more anxious he became, not on their account but on
his own. It would be so dreadful to be turned adrift again, and, in
spite of all the little people's promises, he could not feel sure that
the old gentleman and lady would care to have anything to say to him.
"I'm such a rough one and I've been with such a bad lot," thought the
poor boy to himself while the tears came to his eyes. But he looked up
at the stars again, and somehow their calm cheerful shining seemed to
give him courage. He had been on the point of deciding that as soon as
he was quite sure of the children's safety he would run away, without
letting himself be seen at all, though where he should run to or what
would become of him he had not the least idea! But the silvery light
overhead reminded him somehow of his beautiful dream, for it illumined
the boat and the water and the trees as if they were painted by fairy
fingers.
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