The Imp and the Author
the boy as if he were looking at what he should never see again, and then his voice, hushed for the Imp's sake, broke the stillness.
"I—I didn't think you'd do it, Boy—I didn't think you would ! " he said, and that was all.
The young man started, his eyes widened almost in terror, he caught his breath, and put out his hands as if to ward off some dreaded thing; and then suddenly his muscles gave way, his mouth twisted, and with a little hoarse exclamation he threw himself down on the sand and burst into great racking sobs.
After a while the Author looked toward him and held out his right arm—the Imp was in his left.
"Here, Boy," he said gently, "come here!"
The young man crept up like a little boy and laid his head against the Author's shoulder.
They sat in silence. In front the water rose and fell quietly. The tide was slipping out, and the long creamy breakers pounded softly in the distance, leaving a dark polished rim behind them. A flock of gulls flapped slowly by, black against the reddening clouds. In the silence one could almost hear the sun sink down.
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