Fathers and sons -- Fiction; People with disabilities -- Fiction; Princes -- Fiction; Refugees -- Fiction
He got along very well on his crutches, but he was rather tired when
they reached the turn in the street which led in the direction of his
old haunts. At any rate, they were haunts he knew, and he belonged
to them more than he belonged elsewhere. The Squad stopped at this
particular corner because it led to such homes as they possessed. They
stopped in a body and looked at The Rat, and The Rat stopped also. He
swung himself to Loristan's side, touching his hand to his forehead.
"Thank you, sir," he said. "Line and salute, you chaps!" And the Squad
stood in line and raised their hands also. "Thank you, sir. Thank you,
Marco. Good-by."
"Where are you going?" Loristan asked.
"I don't know yet," The Rat answered, biting his lips.
He and Loristan looked at each other a few moments in silence. Both of
them were thinking very hard. In The Rat's eyes there was a kind of
desperate adoration. He did not know what he should do when this man
turned and walked away from him. It would be as if the sun itself had
dropped out of the heavens--and The Rat had not thought of what the sun
meant before.
But Loristan did not turn and walk away. He looked deep into the lad's
eyes as if he were searching to find some certainty. Then he said in a
low voice, "You know how poor I am."
"I--I don't care!" said The Rat. "You--you're like a king to me. I'd
stand up and be shot to bits if you told me to do it."
"I am so poor that I am not sure I can give you enough dry bread to
eat--always. Marco and Lazarus and I are often hungry. Sometimes you
might have nothing to sleep on but the floor. But I can find a _place_ for
you if I take you with me," said Loristan. "Do you know what I mean by a
_place_?"
"Yes, I do," answered The Rat. "It's what I've never had before--sir."
What he knew was that it meant some bit of space, out of all the world,
where he would have a sort of right to stand, howsoever poor and bare it
might be.
"I'm not used to beds or to food enough," he said. But he did not dare
to insist too much on that "place." It seemed too great a thing to be
true.
Loristan took his arm.
"Come with me," he said. "We won't part. I believe you are to be
trusted."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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