‘Ah, but where’s the money that was in it, Tom?  Where’s the money?’ said I, flourishing one of my crutches, for I was worked up to a state of high excitement when I recalled my own wrongs and Tom’s frauds, and I forgot his relationship to the little girl.  ’Where are the bright new half-crowns that were in the money-box when I left it with you—­the half-crowns that got changed into pennies, Tom?  Where are they?  What’s the use of having a skull for a money-box if it’s got no money in it?  That’s what I want to know, Tom!’

‘Here’s a young gentleman,’ said Tom, ’as I’ve done all these things for, and how does he treat me?  He says, “Why, Tom, you know you’re drunk, you silly old fool."’

At this pathetic appeal the little girl sprang up and turned towards me with the ferocity of a young tigress.  Her little hands were tightly clenched, and her eyes seemed positively to be emitting blue sparks.  Many a bold boy had I encountered on the sands before my accident, and many a fearless girl, but such an impetuous antagonist as this was new.  I leaned on my crutches, however, and looked at her unblenchingly.

‘You wicked English boy, to make my father cry,’ said she, as soon as her anger allowed her to speak.  ’If you were not lame I’d—­I’d—­I’d hit you.’

I did not move a muscle, but stood lost in a dream of wonder at her amazing loveliness.  The fiery flush upon her face and neck, the bewitching childish frown of anger corrugating the brow, the dazzling glitter of the teeth, the quiver of the full scarlet lips above and below them, turned me dizzy with admiration.

Her eyes met mine, and slowly the violet flames in them began to soften.  Then they died away entirely as she murmured,

’You wicked English boy, if you hadn’t—­beautiful—­beautiful eyes, I’d kill you.’

By this time, however, Tom had entirely forgotten his grievance against me, and gazed upon Winifred in a state of drunken wonderment.

‘Winifred,’ he said, in a tone of sorrowful reproach, ’how dare you speak like that to Master Aylwin, your father’s best friend, the only friend your poor father’s got in the world, the friend as I give ferret-eyed rabbits to, and tame hares, and beautiful skulls?  Beg his pardon this instant, Winifred.  Down on your knees and beg my friend’s pardon this instant, Winifred.’

The poor little girl stood dazed, and was actually sinking down on her knees on the grass before me.

I cried out in acute distress,

’No, no, no, no, Tom, pray don’t let her—­dear little girl! beautiful little girl!’

‘Very well, Master Aylwin,’ said Tom grandly, ’she sha’n’t if you don’t like, but she shall go and kiss you and make it up.’

At this the child’s face brightened, and she came and laid her little red lips upon mine.  Velvet lips, I feel them now, soft and warm—­I feel them while I write these lines.