That very same day in the afternoon Bobby was up in his apple-tree, when, to his consternation, he saw his uncle saunter into the orchard, shake hands with Tom, who was cutting the gra.s.s there, and begin an animated conversation with him. Bobby curled himself up well out of sight, and presumed upon his position, for when Mr. Mortimer came down to his corner and stopped for a moment under the tree, the little scamp again said, in as gruff a voice as he could a.s.sume:

'Have you seen mine father?'

In one second Mr. Mortimer's great long arm had shot up through the branches, and seized hold of one of Bobby's fat legs.

'Now, my little man, we'll meet each other face to face!'

Terror succeeded Bobby's audacity. He found himself on the ground, but, alas! in his rough descent n.o.bbles had been dashed from his grasp over the wall upon the high-road, and his anxiety over his darling's fate overcame his terror.

'Oh, save him! Oh, save mine n.o.bbles! Oh, he'll be hurt, he'll be run away with! Oh, please get n.o.bbles, and I'll never run away from you nevermore!'

Tears were crowding into his eyes as he spoke.

'Who's n.o.bbles?' asked the bewildered uncle.

'He's always lived with me for years--everlasting years!' repeated the troubled child. 'I couldn't live without him! Why, a big dog may eat him up, or a motor run over him! Oh, save him quick!'

It was Tom who understood and dashed through the gate at the far end of the orchard. In five minutes n.o.bbles was given into his hand, and a seraphic smile lit up his face as he hugged his treasure. His uncle did not smile. He sat down on one of the lowest limbs of the apple-tree and lit up his pipe.

'Is n.o.bbles fond of going off upon expeditions on his own account?' he asked gravely.

'Well, I _hope_ he doesn't,' rejoined Bobby mysteriously. 'But I have my suspecs of him, acause I always make him sleep with his head on my pillow close to me, and two mornings I've found him on the floor, and once under the bed.'

'Ah,' said his uncle, shaking his head at n.o.bbles, 'I would quite believe it of him. You'll promise not to give him too hard a thrashing if I tell you where he was last night. He came into my room and had a fight with my old cricket bat. He got the worst of it, and went back to your nursery to get some help. He brought along a ninepin, and they fought two against one; the poor ninepin was nearly done for, and he rolled away under the bed and fainted. Then n.o.bbles slunk off and left him in the lurch. And this morning the young villain thinks he will play me a trick, so he put two marbles in my boots. He must have done that in the early hours before you were awake!'

Bobby's face was a study. Delight, horror, and confusion was depicted on it. He looked at n.o.bbles thoughtfully, then he announced:

'I didn't reely fight the cricket bat, I only felt him!'

'But I am talking of n.o.bbles.'

'He is wicked sometimes,' said Bobby, eyeing him wistfully, 'but I didded it all mine self to you.'

Then his uncle gave a hearty laugh.

'You and I are going to chum up,' he said, lifting him on the bough by his side. 'Now tell me more. I want to know you and n.o.bbles.'

Bobby's tongue was unloosed. For the first time in his short life he had found a grown-up person who did not consider him a nuisance. He poured out a strange medley into his astonished and amused uncle's ears. Imagination was much mixed up with fact, but the one theme that was the centre of the child's life was his absent father.

'I know he will come for me one day and take me away with himself! I finks every night when I'm in bed about it. He'll knock at my door sudden, and I'll say, "Come in." And then I'll see him!'

He gave a little wriggle of ecstasy as he spoke.

'He'll take me straight away. P'raps a cab will be at the door, or a motor, and we'll go off to the countries over the sea. Me and n.o.bbles lie very quiet and listen for the knock when we're in bed. I finks I hears it often, but it's been a mistake.'

'But I think I should be frightened to go off with a strange man in the middle of the night,' said his uncle, making a grimace. 'I would rather have him arrive in the middle of the day.'

'Well, sometimes I'd like him to. Just let me climb a little bit higher. Would I knock you down if I took hold of your solder very gently to help me? I want to show you the straight long road he'll come along. There!'

He had swung himself upon the bough above, his uncle having been equal to bear his weight.

And now, with eager face, he pointed out the white dusty high-road that went like a streak of light between rows of flat green meadows, and disappeared at the top of a hill on the horizon.

'He'll come!' he whispered into his uncle's ear; 'and I shall say good-bye to the House and go. I'm only waiting. He'll come along that road. I come here to expec' him every day.'

Not a vestige of doubt in the eager happy voice. His uncle looked at him in wonder.

'How do you know he hasn't forgotten you? You have never got a letter from him, have you? And he mightn't want to be bothered with a small boy.'

But no shadow came across Bobby's earnest, trustful eyes.

'He's my father. He likes me acause I belongs to him. He's the person that likes me in the earth, and G.o.d is the other Person. He's up in heaven, but I belongs to Him too. And G.o.d likes me very much!'

There was supreme self-satisfaction in his tone.

His uncle smiled.

'Your theology doesn't sound right to me. I was always told that it was only very good boys that were liked by G.o.d.'

'Yes, that's what Nurse says; but G.o.d says diff'unt to n.o.bbles and me.

He talks to me sometimes when I'm in bed. He says He'll always like me for ever and ever, amen!'

There was no irreverence in his tone--only triumphant a.s.surance; and his uncle was silenced.

'And so I'm just expecking,' went on the small boy; 'and he may come to-morrow while you're here.'

'That would be first-rate. Now, where shall I find you when I want a game of hide and seek? Where's your nursery?'

Bobby pointed to the window, which was plainly in sight from the orchard.

'But how do I get to it?'

'Through the green door.'

'Of course I do. Now I come to think of it, that is our old nursery.

We were shut away from the rest of the house by the baize door. Here's your nurse looking for you. Good-bye for the present. I'm going out with your grandmother.'

He left Bobby looking after him with wistful eyes.

'He's just my sort,' he announced to his nurse in his old-fashioned way. 'Me and n.o.bbles and him will like each other very much.'

'Who are you talking about?' asked Nurse. And Bobby answered, 'Master Mortimer.'

It was two or three days before he saw his uncle again, for he went up to London on business. Then he entranced the child by taking him down to the river to fish. That was a red-letter day to Bobby; his tongue never stopped until he was told he would frighten the fish away, and then he sat on a fence and gazed at his uncle with adoring eyes. As he trotted home very tired, but very happy, insisting upon carrying two good-sized trout, he said, 'I shall do this every day with father, and we'll cook our brekfus ourselves.'

'May he never disappoint you!'

Mr. Mortimer murmured the words, and happily Bobby did not hear them.

That evening he and n.o.bbles were too excited to sleep. In rehearsing his day to himself, Bobby began to think of many such blissful times in the future; he pictured them to n.o.bbles, his father being the centre-piece. And then he stopped talking and began to listen for the knock that was to come. There was great silence in the nursery. Nurse had gone downstairs to her supper, leaving the night-light as usual upon the washing-stand in the corner of the room. Suddenly Bobby sprang up, his cheeks flushed a deep crimson, his little heart galloping wildly, There was no possible mistake this time. A sharp rat-tat on his door.