The morning was gray and chill. The low-hanging clouds were charged
with moisture, and a thick fog hung above the river. Sabella was so
filled with anxiety concerning the fate of Don Blossom that she was
unable to settle down to any of the light domestic duties with which
she generally occupied her mornings. She wandered restlessly from door
to window, with the vague hope that her missing pet might be somewhere
in sight. If the weather had not been so unpleasant, she would have
started out on a private search for him in the immediate vicinity of
the landing. All at once, as she was gazing from the window of her own
little room on the upper deck at the dreary-looking houses of the
river-front, and as far as she could see up the one muddy street that
came within her range of vision, she heard shouting and laughter, and
saw a group of persons approaching the boat.
For a few minutes she could not make out who they were, or what they
were doing. Then she saw that the one taller than the others was a
man, and that he was surrounded by a group of boys. Several of them
ran backward in front of him, and all of them seemed greatly excited
over something that he bore in his arms. It was a red bundle that
squirmed and struggled as though it was alive. Sabella looked for a
moment longer, then she darted down the short flight of steps leading
to the living-room, and flung open the outer door.
"It's Don Blossom! It's my own dear, sweet Don Blossom!" she cried,
almost snatching the trembling little animal from the man's arms in her
eagerness.
The man stepped inside, and closed the door to shut out the boys, who,
after lingering a few minutes, gradually dispersed.
"Oh, you dear monkey! How could you run away? You naughty, naughty
Don Blossom! Was he cold and wet and hungry and frightened? But he's
safe now, and he shall have his breakfast directly; so he shall, the
dear blessed!"
While Sabella was so much engrossed with her pet as to be unmindful of
all else, the man who had restored him to her stood just within the
doorway and watched her, with an amused smile.
"So he is your monkey, is he? I thought he must be when I first saw
him," he said at length.
"Yes, indeed, he is; and I have been feeling so badly at losing him.
But where did you find him, and how did you know he was mine?" Here
the little girl looked for the first time into the stranger's face.
"Why, you are the very same one--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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