a real ferret-eyed rabbit thoroughbred?'

'Why, I gave you one of my five-shilling pieces for it,' said I; 'and
the rabbit was in a consumption and died in three weeks.'

But Tom still addressed the sea.

'When did his own father give him,' said he, 'the longest thigh-bone
that the sea ever washed out of Raxton churchyard?'

'Why, I gave you _two_ of my five-shilling pieces for
_that_,' said I, 'and next day you went and borrowed the bone,
and sold it over again to Dr. Munro for a quart of beer.'

'When did his own father _give_ him a beautiful skull for a
money-box, and make an oak lid to it, and keep it for him because his
mother wouldn't have it in the house?'

'Ah, but where's the money that was in it, Tom? Where's the money?'
said I, flourishing one of my crutches, for I was worked up to a
state of high excitement when I recalled my own wrongs and Tom's
frauds, and I forgot his relationship to the little girl. 'Where are
the bright new half-crowns that were _in_ the money-box when I
left it with you--the half-crowns that got changed into pennies, Tom?
Where are they? What's the use of having a skull for a money-box if
it's got no money in it? That's what _I_ want to know, Tom!'

'Here's a young gentleman,' said Tom, 'as I've done all these things
for, and how does he treat me? He says, "Why, Tom, you know you're
drunk, you silly old fool."'

At this pathetic appeal the little girl sprang up and turned towards
me with the ferocity of a young tigress. Her little hands were
tightly clenched, and her eyes seemed positively to be emitting blue
sparks. Many a bold boy had I encountered on the sands before my
accident, and many a fearless girl, but such an impetuous antagonist
as this was new. I leaned on my crutches, however, and looked at her
unblenchingly.

'You wicked English boy, to make my father cry,' said she, as soon as
her anger allowed her to speak. 'If you were not lame I'd--I'd--I'd
hit you.'

I did not move a muscle, but stood lost in a dream of wonder at her
amazing loveliness. The fiery flush upon her face and neck, the
bewitching childish frown of anger corrugating the brow, the dazzling
glitter of the teeth, the quiver of the full scarlet lips above and
below them, turned me dizzy with admiration.

Her eyes met mine, and slowly the violet flames in them began to
soften. Then they died away entirely as she murmured,

'You wicked English boy, if you hadn't--beautiful--beautiful eyes,
I'd