"What a horrible fright you gave me, father! But do look at this,
it's the loveliest thing in the world. I've just got to the 'very
strong man Kwasind.' I think he's a little like you!"

Raeburn, though no very great lover of poetry, took the book and
read a few lines.

"Long they lived in peace together,
Spake with naked hearts together,
Pondering much and much contriving
How the tribes of men might prosper."

"Good! That will do very well for you and me, little one. I'm
ready to be your Kwasind. What's the price of the thing? Four and
sixpence! Too much for a luxury. It must wait till our ship comes
in."

He put down the book, and they moved on together, but had not gone
many paces before they were stopped by a most miserable-looking
beggar child. Brian standing now outside the shop, saw and heard
all that passed.

Raeburn was evidently investigating the case, Erica, a little
impatient of the interruption, was remonstrating.

"I thought you never gave to beggars, and I am sure that harrowing
story is made up."

"Very likely," replied the father, "but the hunger is real, and I