"Bless the child," said Markham, quite affected by this.
"Why don't you help me get out? Once I was outside the park I'd do all right."
"Much as my place is worth," said Markham; "don't you say another word getting me into trouble."
But Dickie said a good many other words, and fell asleep quite satisfied with the last words that had fallen from Markham. These words were: "We'll see."
It was only just daylight when Markham woke him. She dressed him hurriedly, and carried him and his crutch down the back stairs and into that very butler's pantry through whose window he had crept at the bidding of the red-haired man. No one else seemed to be about.
"Now," she said, "the gardener he has got a few hampers ready—fruit and flowers and the like—and he drives 'em to the station 'fore any one's up. They'd only go to waste if 'e wasn't to sell 'em. See? An' he's a particular friend of mine; and he won't mind an extry hamper more or less. So out with you. Joe," she whispered, "you there?"
Joe, outside, whispered that he was. And Markham lifted Dickie to the window. As she did so she kissed him.
"Cheer-oh, old chap!" she said. "I'm sorry I was so short. An' you do want to get out of it, don't you?"
"No error," said Dickie; "an' I'll never split about him selling the vegetables and things."
