But David had thrown the smooth stone from the brook!
It was a very little stone; the giant did not know for many a day
where he had been hit; yet it had struck him in the one vulnerable
point in his armor--his daughter's trust in him. How the wound widened
does not belong to this story.
When Dr. Lavendar came bustling back with his tickets, David was
absorbed in thought. He had very little to say on the long day's
journey over the mountains. When they reached Mercer where they were
to spend the night, he had nothing whatever to say: his eyes were
closing with fatigue, and he was asleep almost before his little
yellow head touched the pillow. In the morning he asked a question: "Is it a Aunt if you don't know it?" "What?" said Dr. Lavendar,
winding his clean stock carefully around his neck.
But David relapsed into silence. He asked so few questions that day
that crutches for lame ducks were referred to only once.
They took the afternoon stage for Old Chester. It was a blue,
delicious October day, David sat on the front seat between Dr.
Lavendar and Jonas, and as Jonas told them all that had happened
during their long absence, the child felt a reviving interest in life.
Dr. Lavendar's humming broke out into singing; he sang scraps of songs
and hymns, and teased David about being sleepy. "I believe he's lost
his tongue, Jonas; he hasn't said boo! since we left Mercer. I suppose
he won't have a thing to tell Mrs. Richie, not a thing!"
"Well, now, there!" said Jonas, "her George gimme a letter for you,
and I'll be kicked if I ain't forgot it!" He thrust his left leg out,
so that his cow-hide boot hung over the dashboard, and fumbled in his
pocket; then thrust out the right leg and fumbled in another pocket;
then dived into two or three coat pockets; finally a very crumpled
note, smelling of the stable, came up from the depths and was handed
to Dr. Lavendar.
"Slow down these two-forties on a plank road, Jonas, till I get my
glasses on." said Dr. Lavendar.
After he read the letter he did not sing any more; his face fell into
deeply puzzled lines. "I must ask Willy what it's all about," he said
to himself. Certainly the note did not explain itself: "DEAR DR. LAVENDAR: If it will not inconvenience you, will you let
David stay at the rectory tonight?--and perhaps for a few days longer.
I am not sure whether I shall be able to keep him. I may have to give
him back to you. Will you let him stay with you until I can decide
what to do?