With a stiff step and unsteadily, as if he were walking on stilts, Fiam took a trip around the room and then returned and climbed up on my knee. “Is it all right?” I asked. “Tighten up the joint of the left leg. The knot is loose so the leg is trembly.” With the help of my teeth I tightened the knot, and placed Fiam on the floor. He tried again, and this time stepped more quickly and steadily. “Thank you,” he said to me, as he came back. “Now, listen to me. You must carry me always with you; you must never leave me; you must never give me to any one else.” “Don’t be afraid. I shall put you in your little box. That will be your home. Does it please you?” “Yes, although I have suffered so much in there, constantly afraid of being put to death. If I hadn’t been found by you....” “Thank you, my friend.” “And when you put me in there wrap up my head in cotton; have you any?” “No. Let me see; wait. I will take some from the quilt. Will that be all right?” “Yes; I’m so afraid of taking fire, you see. Imagine how scared you would be if your head were covered with phosphorus like mine.” “Don’t speak of it. I can imagine it very well. It makes me shudder to think of it.” “Look out for fire, then. Don’t mix me up with others; I mean with ordinary matches. Never smoke in my presence.” “No, no, I promise you, I won’t.” “Now put me away; I need a little rest. All this has made me tired. Good-night.” “Good-night, little match.” I covered his head with a tuft of cotton which I took from the quilt on my bed, and placed my friend in the wooden box, on which was printed the picture of a dragon surrounded by Chinese words which meant “Matches made in Sweden.” [Illustration: He Confides in Me] CHAPTER III HE CONFIDES IN ME In this way I came to have a new companion and dear confidant with whom I lived happily for many months. I soon became accustomed to him, but I must own to you that during the first two or three days, when I wasn’t looking at him, I still thought it all a dream. As soon as I had put him to rest I went to sleep myself (the noise of the rain was so soothing), and when I awoke I was so sure that Fiam was a dream that I forgot him entirely. But the little boy was near me on the floor and before long I heard rapid tapping on the thin wooden sides. Fiam was knocking. I opened his prison, and out he came. He took the cotton from his head carefully, so as not to break the phosphorus, and sat down on top of a slipper that was near him. “Glad to see you,” I said. “Thank you,” he replied in his feeble voice. As I leaned toward him he shouted at me: “Put me on your white wall; we can talk then more easily.” “What wall?” I asked, looking all around me. “I don’t see any.” “I mean the battlement that defends your neck. Put me on top of that. I shall be near your ear.”