Table of Contents

nothing was said for some time. Then Becky broke the silence: “Tom, I am so
hungry!” Tom took something out of his pocket.

“Do you remember this?” said he.
Becky almost smiled.

“It’s our wedding cake, Tom.” “Yes-I wish it was as big as a barrel, for it’s all
we’ve got.” “I saved it from the picnic for us to dream on, Tom, the way grown-
up people do with wedding cake-but it’ll be our-”

She dropped the sentence where it was. Tom divided the cake and Becky ate
with good appetite, while Tom nibbled at his moiety. There was abundance of
cold water to finish the feast with. By and by Becky suggested that they move on
again. Tom was silent a moment. Then he said: “Becky, can you bear it if I tell
you something?” Becky’s face paled, but she said she thought she could.

“Well then, Becky, we must stay here, where there’s water to drink. That little
piece is our last candle!” Becky gave loose to tears and wailings. Tom did what
he could to comfort her but with little effect. At length Becky said: “Tom!”
“Well, Becky?” “They’ll, miss us and hunt for us!” “Yes they will! Certainly they
will!” “Maybe they’re hunting for us now, Tom?” “Why I reckon maybe they
are. I hope they are.” “When would they miss us, Tom?” “When they get back to
the boat, reckon.” “Tom, it might be dark, then-would they notice we hadn’t
come?”

“I don’t know. But anyway, your mother would miss you as soon as they got
home.” A frightened look in Becky’s face brought Tom to his senses and he saw
that he had made a blunder. Becky was not to have gone home that night! The
children became silent and thoughtful. In a moment a new burst of grief from
Becky showed Tom that the thing in his mind had struck hers also-that the
Sabbath morning might be half spent before Mrs. Thatcher discovered that
Becky was not at Mrs. Harper’s.

The children fastened their eyes upon their bit of candle and watched it melt
slowly and pitilessly away; saw the half inch of wick stand alone at last; saw the
feeble flame rise and fall, climb the thin column of smoke, linger at its top a
moment, and then-the horror of utter darkness reigned!

How long afterward it was that Becky came to a slow consciousness that she was
crying in Tom’s arms, neither could tell. All that they knew was, that after what
seemed a mighty stretch of time, both awoke out of a dead stupor of sleep and
resumed their miseries once more. Tom said it might be Sunday, now-maybe
Monday. He tried to get Becky to talk, but her sorrows were too oppressive, all
her hopes were gone. Tom said that they must have been missed long ago, and
no doubt the search was going on. He would shout and maybe some one would
come. He tried it; but in the darkness the distant echoes sounded so hideously
that he tried it no more.

The hours wasted away, and hunger came to torment the captives again. A
portion of Tom’s half of the cake was left; they divided and ate it. But they
seemed hungrier than before. The poor morsel of food only whetted desire.