A Night Journey

It seemed to me as if starting-time would never come, and I fidgeted in
and out from the kitchen to the stable to see if Ike had come back,
while Mrs Dodley kept on shaking her at me in a pitying way.

"Hadn't you better give it, up, my dear?" she said dolefully. "Out all
night! It'll be a trying time."

"What nonsense!" I said. "Why, sailors have to keep watch of a night
regularly."

"When the stormy wynds do blow," said Mrs Dodley with something between
a sniff and a sob. "Does Mrs Beeton know you are going?"

"No," I said stoutly.

"My poor orphan bye," she said with a real sob. "Don't--don't go."

"Why, Mrs Dodley," I cried, "any one would think I was a baby."

"Here, Grant," cried Mr Brownsmith, "hadn't you better lie down for an
hour or two. You've plenty of time."

"No, sir," I said stoutly; "I couldn't sleep if I did."

"Well, then, come and have some supper."

That I was quite willing to have, and I sat there, with the old
gentleman looking at me every now and then with a smile.

"You will not feel so eager as this next time, Master Grant."

At last I heard the big latch rattle on the gate, and started up in the
greatest excitement. Old Brownsmith gave me a nod, and as I passed
through the kitchen Mrs Dodley looked at me with such piteous eyes and
so wrinkled a forehead that I stopped.