"There are schools enough in London,"said Mr.Carrisford.
Then he slightly started,roused by a recollection."By the way,there is one next door."
"Then we will begin there.We cannot begin nearer than next door."
"No,"said Carrisford."There is a child there who interests me;
but she is not a pupil.And she is a little dark,forlorn creature,as unlike poor Crewe as a child could be."
Perhaps the Magic was at work again at that very moment--the beautiful Magic.It really seemed as if it might be so.
What was it that brought Ram Dass into the room--even as his master spoke--salaaming respectfully,but with a scarcely concealed touch of excitement in his dark,flashing eyes?
"Sahib,"he said,"the child herself has come--the child the sahib felt pity for.She brings back the monkey who had again run away to her attic under the roof.I have asked that she remain.
{I}t was my thought that it would please the sahib to see and speak with her."
"Who is she?"inquired Mr.Carmichael.
"God knows,"Mr.Carrrisford answered."She is the child I spoke of.
A little drudge at the school."He waved his hand to Ram Dass,and addressed him."Yes,I should like to see her.Go and bring her in."Then he turned to Mr.Carmichael."While you have been away,"
he explained,"I have been desperate.The days were so dark and long.
Ram Dass told me of this child's miseries,and together we invented a romantic plan to help her.I suppose it was a childish thing to do;
but it gave me something to plan and think of.Without the help of an agile,soft-footed Oriental like Ram Dass,however,it could not have been done."
Then Sara came into the room.She carried the monkey in her arms,and he evidently did not intend to part from her,if it could be helped.He was clinging to her and chattering,and the interesting excitement of finding herself in the Indian gentleman's room had brought a flush to Sara's cheeks.
"Your monkey ran away again,"she said,in her pretty voice.
"He came to my garret window last night,and I took him in because it was so cold.I would have brought him back if it had not been so late.
I knew you were ill and might not like to be disturbed."
The Indian gentleman's hollow eyes dwelt on her with curious interest.
"That was very thoughtful of you,"he said.
Sara looked toward Ram Dass,who stood near the door.
"Shall I give him to the Lascar?"she asked.
"How do you know he is a Lascar?"said the Indian gentleman,smiling a little.
"Oh,I know Lascars,"Sara said,handing over the reluctant monkey.
"I was born in India."
The Indian gentleman sat upright so suddenly,and with such a change of expression,that she was for a moment quite startled.
"You were born in India,"he exclaimed,"were you?Come here."
And he held out his hand.
Sara went to him and laid her hand in his,as he seemed to want to take it.She stood still,and her green-gray eyes met his wonderingly.
Something seemed to be the matter with him.
"You live next door?"he demanded.
"Yes;I live at Miss Minchin's seminary."
"But you are not one of her pupils?"
A strange little smile hovered about Sara's mouth.She hesitated a moment.
"I don't think I know exactly WHAT I am,"she replied.
"Why not?"
"At first I was a pupil,and a parlor boarder;but now--"
"You were a pupil!What are you now?"
The queer little sad smile was on Sara's lips again.
"I sleep in the attic,next to the scullery maid,"she said.
"I run errands for the cook--I do anything she tells me;and I teach the little ones their lessons."
"Question her,Carmichael,"said Mr.Carrisford,sinking back as if he had lost his strength."Question her;I cannot."
The big,kind father of the Large Family knew how to question little girls.Sara realized how much practice he had had when he spoke to her in his nice,encouraging voice.
"What do you mean by `At first,'my child?"he inquired.
"When I was first taken there by my papa."
"Where is your papa?"
"He died,"said Sara,very quietly."He lost all his money and there was none left for me.There was no one to take care of me or to pay Miss Minchin."
"Carmichael!"the Indian gentleman cried out loudly."Carmichael!"
"We must not frighten her,"Mr.Carmichael said aside to him in a quick,low voice.And he added aloud to Sara,"So you were sent up into the attic,and made into a little drudge.That was about it,wasn't it?"
"There was no one to take care of me,"said Sara."There was no money;
I belong to nobody."
"How did your father lose his money?"the Indian gentleman broke in breathlessly.
"He did not lose it himself,"Sara answered,wondering still more each moment."He had a friend he was very fond of--he was very fond of him.It was his friend who took his money.
He trusted his friend too much."
The Indian gentleman's breath came more quickly.
"The friend might have MEANT to do no harm,"he said."It might have happened through a mistake."
Sara did not know how unrelenting her quiet young voice sounded as she answered.If she had known,she would surely have tried to soften it for the Indian gentleman's sake.
"The suffering was just as bad for my papa,"she said.It killed him."
"What was your father's name?"the Indian gentleman said.
"Tell me."
"His name was Ralph Crewe,"Sara answered,feeling startled.
"Captain Crewe.He died in India."
The haggard face contracted,and Ram Dass sprang to his master's side.
"Carmichael,"the invalid gasped,"it is the child--the child!"
For a moment Sara thought he was going to die.Ram Dass poured out drops from a bottle,and held them to his lips.Sara stood near,trembling a little.She looked in a bewildered way at Mr.Carmichael.
"What child am I?"she faltered.
"He was your father's friend,"Mr.Carmichael answered her.
"Don't be frightened.We have been looking for you for two years."
Sara put her hand up to her forehead,and her mouth trembled.
She spoke as if she were in a dream.
"And I was at Miss Minchin's all the while,"she half whispered.
"Just on the other side of the wall."
