"Won't you shake hands?"
He thrust out a grimy little palm, and as I clasped it I saw a big
tear roll down his cheek.
"You'll come back soon - very soon - Uncle Dick?"
"Yes, I'll come back, my Imp."
"So - help you - Sam?"
"So help me Sam!"
And thus it was we parted, the Imp and I, beneath the "blasted oak,"
and I know my heart was strangely heavy as I turned away and left
him.
After I had gone some distance I paused to look back. He still
stood where I had left him, but his face was hidden in his arms as
he leaned sobbing against the twisted trunk of the great tree.
All the way to the 'Three Jolly Anglers' and during the rest of the
evening the thought of the little desolate figure haunted me, so
much so that, having sent away my dinner untasted, I took pen and
ink and wrote him a letter, enclosing with it my penknife, which I
had often seen him regard with "the eye of desire," despite the
blade he had broken upon a certain memorable occasion. This done,
I became possessed of a determination to send some message to
Lisbeth also - just a few brief words which should yet reveal to
her something of the thoughts I bore her ere I passed ut of her
life forever.
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