The Imp and the Angel
"Don't you like cookies?" The Imp gave him one more chance to explain himself.
"Yes," said the Angel, while the sand flew about him, and that was all.
Not a talkative fellow, evidently, but a good worker. There was already sand enough for a tower, and so the Imp asked no more questions, but set to work in a business-like manner. He was only doing what he did every day, and he was utterly unconscious of the terror that he might be causing in Emma's breast. He did not know that the frightened nurse was running wildly up the beach in search of the fort, taking precisely the wrong direction; and though Algernon was far less talkative than Tracy Mclntyre, he was a good play-fellow, and the Imp actually forgot, after a few minutes, that they had come out under rather unusual circumstances and had not intended to stay long.
Just as the tower was done, the Imp, glancing up, saw far down the beach a little crowd of men running out a row-boat. He had dragged the Angel to his feet in a moment and was starting down the beach after them. The Angel could not run very fast, owing to his tight trousers, which flapped out at the ankles over his little ties,
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