“Well, boy, what do you want? Have you anything to say to me?”

 

Mr Auberly turned sharp round on Willie, whose gaze had gone beyond the length of simple curiosity. In fact, he was awe-struck at the sight of such a very tall and very dignified¹ man standing² so grimly in the midst of such dreadful devastation³.

 

“Please, sir, I was sent to you, sir, by—”

 

“Oh, you’re the boy, the son of—that is to say, you were sent to me by your mother,” said Mr Auberly with a frown.

 

“Well, sir,” replied Willie, hesitating, “I—I—was sent by—by—”

 

“Ah, I see,” interrupted Mr Auberly with a smile that was meant to be gracious, “you were sent by a fireman; you are not the—the—I mean you’re the other boy.”

 

Poor Willie, being of a powerfully risible⁴ nature, found it hard to contain himself on hearing his own words of the previous evening re-echoed thus unexpectedly. His face became red, and he took refuge in blowing his nose, during which process—having observed the smile on Mr Auberly’s face—he resolved to be “the other boy.”

 

“Yes, sir,” he said, looking up modestly, “I was sent by a fireman; I am the other boy.”

 

Mr Auberly smiled again grimly, and said that the fireman was a brave fellow, and that he had saved his daughter’s life, and that he was very glad to do anything that lay in his power for him, and that he understood that Willie was the fireman’s brother; to which the boy replied that he was.

 

“Well, then, come this way,” continued Mr Auberly, leading Willie into the library of the adjoining house, which his friend had put at his disposal, and seating himself at a writing-table. “You want a situation of some sort—a clerkship, I suppose?”

 

Willie admitted that his ambition soared to that tremendous height.

 

“Let me see,” muttered Mr Auberly, taking up a pen and beginning to write; “yes, she will be able to help me. What is your name, boy?”

分享到：