Diana had quite a nice time for the rest of the morning. Uncle William had not the least idea of sending her back to the schoolroom.
"It's very hot," he said, "and I feel sleepy. I dare say you do also."
"I do awfu'," answered Diana. "You isn't a bad old man, not at all," she continued. Here she raised her fat hand and stroked his flabby cheek. "You hates writing sermons, don't you?"
"Diana," he answered, "I would rather you did not speak about it."
"Oh, I can keep secrets," replied Diana.
"Well, in that case, to be quite frank with you, I do not care for writing sermons."
"And I don't care for learning lessons. You didn't mean to sting me so bad with that howid wod, did you, Uncle William?"
Mr. Dolman made no reply with his lips, for he did not like to defy his wife's authority, but Diana read his thoughts in his rather dull blue eyes.
"You is a kind old man," she said; "that is, when you isn't tempted by that naughty, howid woman. You is a kind old man by yourself, and you shan't be shotted."
"What do you mean by being shotted, Diana?"
But here Diana pursed up her rosy lips and looked rather solemn.
"That's a secret," she answered. "Uncle William, may I have a whole holiday to-day?"
"I think so, my dear little girl. I really think that can be managed. It is too hot to work—at least, I find it so."
"Then course I does also," answered Diana, clapping her hands. "Shall we go out into the garding—what you say?"
"Would you like to?" he asked.
"Yes, more particular in fruit garding. We can eat cherries and strawberries, and pelt each other. What you say?"
Mr. Dolman looked out of the open window. He was pretty certain that his wife by this time was absent in the village. The clock on the mantelpiece pointed to half-past eleven; the early dinner would not be ready until one o'clock. It would be cool and pleasant in the fruit garden, and it would please poor little Diana, who, in his opinion, had been very harshly treated.
"All right," he answered, "but, you know, your aunt is not to be told."
He rose from his chair as he spoke, and, stretching out his long hand, allowed Diana to curl her fingers round one of his.
"I should wather think Aunt Jane isn't to know," replied Diana, beginning to skip in her rapture. "I don't like aunts; I always said so. I like uncles; they isn't half bad. You isn't bad, for an old man. You is awfu' old, isn't you?"
"Not so very old, Diana. I'm not forty yet."
"Forty! What a ter'ble age!" said Diana. "Youmust 'member all the kings and queens of England; don't you, Uncle William?"
"Not quite all, Diana. Now, I'll just take you through the garden, for I think a little fresh air will do you good."
"And if I pop cherries into your mouf it 'll do you good," answered Diana. "Oh, we'll have a lovely time!"
So they did, and Mr. Dolman devoutly hoped that there was no one there to see. For Diana rapidly recovered her spirits, and picked cherries in quantities and pelted her uncle; and then she ran races and incited him to follow her, and she picked strawberries, heaps and heaps, and got him to sit down on a little bench near the strawberry beds, and popped the delicious ripe berries into his mouth; and although he had never played before in such a fashion with any little girl, he quite enjoyed it, and presently entered the house with his lips suspiciously red, and a confession deep down in his heart that he had spent quite a pleasant morning.
At dinner-time Diana and her uncle walked into the room, side by side.
"Well, William," said Mrs. Dolman, "I hope you have finished your sermon."
"Not quite, my dear," he answered.
"Not kite, my dear," echoed Diana.
Mr. Dolman gave her a half-terrified glance, but she was stanch enough, and had not the least idea of betraying the happy morning they had spent together.
Towards the end of the meal, her clear little voice might have been heard calling to her uncle.
"Uncle William, you wishes me to have a wholeholiday; doesn't you? You pwomised I is to have a whole holiday to-day."
Now, Mrs. Dolman had felt very uncomfortable about Diana during her hot walk to the village that morning. She had not at all minded punishing her, but when she saw her lying white and unconscious in her arms, she had certainly gone through a terrible moment, and had, perhaps, in the whole course of her life, never felt so thankful as when the black eyes opened wide, and the little voice sounded once again. The look, too, that Diana had given her on this occasion she could not quite efface from her recollection. On the whole, therefore, she felt inclined to be gentle to the little girl, and when she pleaded for a holiday Mrs. Dolman did not say a word to interfere.
"It is a very hot day, and Diana was not quite well this morning," said Mr. Dolman, glancing first at his wife and then at Miss Ramsay, "so, all things considered, perhaps—"
"Thank you, uncle," interrupted Diana, "it's kite settled, and you isn't half a bad sort of old man. And now, p'ease, I want Orion to have a holiday too."
"Oh, that's another matter!" interrupted Miss Ramsay. "Orion is in perfect health to-day, and as he is extremely backward for his age—"
"But the heat of the day, and the child being so young," put in Mr. Dolman.
"I'd be much happier if I had Orion with me," continued Diana, "and it's 'portant my being happy; isn't it, Uncle William? P'ease, Uncle William, say that Orion may have a holiday."
"I will give leave if your aunt and Miss Ramsay will," he replied.
"Oh, don't ask me!" said Mrs. Dolman, risinghastily as she spoke. "I wash my hands of the pair."
"She washes her hands of the pair, so she don't count," said Diana. "Is we to have a holiday, Uncle William? I is, but is Orion, too? That's the 'portant part," she added.
"I have no objection," said Miss Ramsay, who thought it best to close this scene as quickly as possible.
Orion uttered a shout of rapture, Diana rushed up to him, clutched him round the neck, and pulled him from the room.
Nearly wild with glee, they both ran helter-skelter out of the house, into the cool shrubbery beyond.
"Now, Orion," said Diana, the moment they found themselves alone, "you must cool down and not 'cite yourself too much. We has a ter'ble lot of work to do. I has got my holiday through awfu' suff'in'. I was beated and killed, and I has come fresh to life again. Course I's in a wage, and I's got a holiday for you and for me 'cos we must do our work. Wun upstairs, Orion, and bwing down your big straw hat and mine, and we'll go and findthem."
Orion knew perfectly well what "them" meant. He looked hard at Diana, saw something in her eyes which she could not suppress, and, with a sigh of mingled pleasure and alarm ran off to do her bidding. He returned in less than a minute with his large sailor hat stuck on the back of his head, and a white sun-bonnet for Diana. Diana's sun-bonnet had a black bow at the back and black strings.
"Howid, hot old thing," she said, "I won't wear it. Here, let's hide it; I don't mind going with nothing."
"But you must not do that," said Orion, "'cos, if they see you, they'll catch you and bring you home. You had best sling it on your arm, Di; and then, if they are seen coming, why, you can pop it on your head."
"Well, p'w'aps so," answered Diana. "We has an awfu' lot to do this afternoon, Orion, 'cos Aunt Jane has got to be shotted, and I's thinking of having Miss Wamsay shotted too."
"But do you mean," said Orion, "that you'll really shoot 'em both?"
"Yes," replied Diana. "It has to be done; it's ter'ble, but it must be done. What would be the good if they wasn't shotted dead? Yes, they'll be shotted, and they'll have a public funeral, and after that we'll have a lovely time. Uncle William isn't half bad, and 'stead of doing howid lessons every morning we'll just go into the garding and eat stwawberries and cherries, and he'll play with us. He'll love to, for he don't like writing sermins a bit, and we'll blindfold him and he'll wun after us. He's k'ite a nice old man, and if Aunt Jane and Miss Wamsay is shotted—why, we'll have a jolly time. Now, let's wun and fetch the big bow and arrows."
Orion had always a great respect for his younger sister Diana. "Well," he said, "if you're a grand lady, don't forget that I'm a big giant, and that I've got a belt and a sword. There's Simpson, you know; she's rather a bother, and I can run my sword into her, if you really wish it, Diana."
"I'll think about it," answered Diana. "I don't want to have three persons deaded wight off; it might be sort of troublesome. I'll think what's best to be done with Simpson. Now, let's start at once."
Mrs. Dolman was under the supposition that the children had gone to play in the back garden. The greater part of that somewhat neglected domain was laid out in shrubbery, and there were shady trees and swings and see-saws, and other sources of amusement for the little Dolmans during their brief hours of play. Miss Ramsay also thought that Diana and Orion would go to the shrubbery. She went up, therefore, to the schoolroom quite contented. Mr. Dolman retired to his study, where he went to sleep, and Mrs. Dolman ordered the pony chaise, and went off to see a distant parishioner, who was very ill.
The house was wonderfully quiet, and nothing occurred to disturb Mr. Dolman in his deep slumber. The manuscript pages which were to be covered by his neatly written sermon lay in virgin purity before him. In his sleep he dreamt of little Diana, and awoke presently with a queer sense of uneasiness with regard to her. But he was by nature a very lazy man, and it did not occur to him to inquire as to her present whereabouts. "She's a fine little soul," he said to himself. "I do wish Jane had not taken such a dislike to her. It is useless to drive that sort of child; she must be led, and led gently. 'Pon my word, I did have an entertaining morning with the little mite, and what a lot of strawberries she made me eat! I wonder Jane did not remark at dinner how poor my appetite was—I was dreadfully afraid she would do so. Certainly Jane is an active woman, an excellent woman, but just a little bit stern."
Meanwhile Diana, holding Orion by the hand, had started running up the long avenue. The little pair soon reached the lodge gates. Diana and her brother went out through the postern door which was at theside, and the next moment found themselves on the highroad. This road led in the direction of the shady woods where Apollo had hidden the bow and arrows a few weeks ago. It was a pretty road, a couple of miles in length, and well shaded by trees, a kind of outgrowth of the forest itself. As she was not likely to meet any of the Dolman family on the road, Diana did not wear her sun-bonnet, but kept it hanging on her arm. "It is nice to be out," she said, as she tripped along. "I love hot sun; I love twees; I love blue sky; I love dust."
"I don't," replied Orion; "this road is horrid dusty, and it gets into my shoes. I have only my house shoes on, you know, Diana."
"Oh, never mind!" answered Diana. "If you is a giant, you isn't going to g'umble. What is the use of g'umbling? You be all wight soon. We'll be in the wood soon, and we'll have got the bow and arrows, and then we'll have to pwactice shooting. Oh, I say, there's a turnstile and a path, and I believe the path leads stwaight to the wood. Let's leave the woad and go to the wood that way."
"All right," replied Orion. He always did say "all right" to every single thing Diana asked him to do.
The children now found themselves in a shady lane, between high hedgerows. It was a pretty lane, only very sultry at this time of day; but Diana, seeing butterflies flying about, began to give chase to them. She also stopped many times to pick flowers. Orion shouted as he ran, and neither of the little pair minded, for a time at least, the fact that the sun was pouring on their heads, and that their small faces were getting redder and redder.
"I's stweaming down with hotness," said Diana, atlast. "I must stop a bit or I'll melt away. I don't want to melt till I has shotted my enemies. Is you stweaming with hotness, Orion?"
"Yes," said Orion.
They stood still, took out their handkerchiefs, mopped their faces vigorously, and then continued their walk. The time seemed to drag all of a sudden; they were both very tired. How glad they were when they finally reached the friendly shelter of the Super-Ashton woods. Here it was deliciously cool, and here Diana, thoroughly exhausted, threw herself on her face and hands, and, before Orion could say a word, had dropped off into sound sleep. He thought she looked very comfortable, and it occurred to him that he could not do better than follow her example. Accordingly, he also stretched himself on the ground, and, with his head resting on one of Diana's fat little legs, also visited the land of dreams. For two hours the children slept. When they awoke at last they found that the sun was no longer high in the heavens; it was veering rapidly towards the west, and was sending slanting and very beautiful rays of light through the wood. Diana rubbed her eyes and looked around her.
"I's awfu' hung'y," she said. "How does you feel, Orion?"
"My tumtum's empty," answered Orion.
"We'll pick berries in the wood," said Diana; "that'll sat'sfy us. Berries is wight for wunaway sildrens. Do you 'member what we has come here for, Orion?"
"To amuse ourselves, I suppose," replied Orion.
Diana gave him an angry flash from her black eyes.
"What a silly little boy you is!" she said. "We hascome for most solemn, 'portant business. I is Diana—the gweat Diana what lived years and years ago—and you is Orion. I is the gweatest huntwess in all the world, and I's going to shoot Aunt Jane and Miss Wamsay. Now, come 'long, Orion, and let's look for the bow and arrow."
The children searched and searched, and after a long time did actually discover the crooked and badly made bow and the blunt arrow.
"Here they is, the darlin's!" cried Diana. "My own bow, my own arrow—how I loves 'em! Now, Orion, I is going to shoot you—for pwactice, you know, and then you shall shoot me for pwactice too. You stand up there against the twee, and I'll make good shots. You don't mind if I does hurt you a bit, does you?"
"But I don't want to be shotted down dead," replied Orion.
"No, I won't go as far as that. It's only Aunt Jane and Miss Wamsay who is to be shotted dead; but you'll have to be shotted, 'cos I must pwactice how to do it."
"But couldn't you practice against the tree without me standing there?" said Orion, who had no fancy to have even this very blunt arrow directed at his face.
After some very slight persuasion Diana induced Orion to put his back up against an oak tree and to allow her to shoot at him. He quickly discovered that he had little or no cause for fear. Diana's arrows, wielded with all the cunning she possessed, from the crooked bow, never went anywhere near him. They fell on the grass and startled the birds, and one little baby rabbit ran quite away, and some squirrels looked down at the children through the thick trees; but Orion had very little chance of getting hurt.
"It's awfu' difficult," said Diana, whose face grew redder and redder with her efforts. "If it don't shoot pwoper, Aunt Jane won't get shotted to-night. What is to be done? Suppose you was to twy for a bit, Orion?"
Orion was only too anxious to accede to this proposition. He took the bow and arrow and made valiant efforts, but in the course of his endeavors to shoot properly, the badly made bow suddenly snapped in two, and Diana, in her discomfiture, and the dashing to the ground of her hopes, burst into tears.
"You is bad boy," she cried. "See what you's done. Back we goes to slav'ry—to Aunt Jane and Miss Wamsay. You is a bad, howid boy."
"I aren't," said Orion, who had a very easily aroused temper. "It's you that's a horrid little girl."
"Come, children; what's all this noise about?" said a voice in their ears.
They turned abruptly, forgetting on the instant their own cause of quarrel, and saw a tall, swarthy-looking woman coming towards them. By this time it was beginning to get dark in the wood, but they could see the figure of the woman quite distinctly. She came close to them, and then, putting her arms akimbo, surveyed them both with a certain queer expression on her face.
"Well, my little dears," she said, "and what may you two be doing in this part of the wood?"
"We is pweparing to have our enemies shotted," answered Diana, in a calm, but sturdy, voice. "What's your name, gweat big woman?"
"Mother Rodesia Lee," replied the woman, "and I'm fond of little children. I like to meet them in the wood. I often come into the wood, and when I see little strange children I love 'em at once. I'm a sort of mother to all little strangers who get into the woods without leave." Here she flashed a pair of black eyes full into Diana's face. But Diana met their gaze without a vestige of shrinking, with eyes as black.
"We has not come without leave," she said; "you is naughty to talk that way. We has got a whole holiday to-day from our Uncle William. He didn't say nothing 'bout not going into the woods, and we has been here for lots of hours. We is going home now 'cos we is hung'y, and 'cos my bow has got bwoke. We is awfu' unhappy—we is mis'ble, but we is going home. Good-night, woman; don't keep us talkin' any longer."
"I aint going to keep you," said the woman; "only,p'r'aps, if you two are so hungry, p'r'aps I could give you a bit of supper."
"Oh, yes, Diana! Do let her," said Orion.
"What sort of supper?" asked Diana, who never allowed herself to be taken unawares. "Would it be stwawberries and k'eam, or would it be cake and milk?"
"Strawberries and cream, and milk and cake, plenty and plenty," said the woman. "And what do you say to delicious soup and honey, p'r'aps? Oh, come along, my little loves; I'll give you something fine to eat."
"Do let's go," said Orion; "my tumtum's so empty it feels like a big hole."
"I know," said the woman, in a very sympathetic voice. "I have had it myself like that at times. It's sort of painful when it's like that; aint it?"
"Yes," answered Orion. He went up to his sister, and took her hand. "Come along, Di," he said. "Do let this nice woman give us our supper."
"You may be sure I won't give it," said the woman, "unless both you little children ask me in a very perlite voice. You must say, 'Please, Mother Rodesia.'"
"I can't say that keer sort of name," said Diana.
"Well, then, call me mother without anything else. They often does that at home—often and often. All the little kids is desp'ate fond of me. I dote so on little children. My heart runs over with love to 'em."
"You would not let a little girl be beated?" said Diana.
"Be beaten?" replied the woman. "No, that I wouldn't; it would be downright cruel."
"I was beated to-day," said Diana; "it was an enemy did it, and I'm going to have her shotted."
"Oh, I wouldn't do that!" said the woman. "You might be hanged up for that."
"What's being hanged up?" asked Diana.
"It's something very bad—I need not tell you now; but there are laws in this country, and if you shoot your enemies you are hanged up for it. You are not allowed to do those sort of things in this country."
"Yes, I are," answered Diana, "'cos I are the gweat Diana. You underland, don't you?"
"I don't know that I do; but, anyhow, I have no time to stand talking now. Come along, and you can tell me afterwards. I have got such a nice supper—plenty of strawberries and cream, plenty of milk and cake."
"Oh, my tumtum," said Orion, pressing his hand to that part of his little body with great solemnity.
"How soon will the supper be over? and how soon can we get back home?" asked Diana.
"That depends on where your home is, my pretty little dear," said Mother Rodesia.
"It's at Wectory, stoopid woman."
"I don't know that place, miss."
"Don't you know my Uncle William Dolman?"
"What! the rector?" said the woman. "And so you come from theRectory?" She looked frightened for a moment, and her manner became hesitating. "Are you one of the rector's children, my little love?" she asked.
"No; he's only an uncle; he belongs to an aunt. I hate aunts. He's not a bad sort his own self; but I hate aunts!"
"Then you wouldn't mind if you was to leave her?"
"No. But I can't leave Uncle William, and I can'tleave Iris, and I can't leave Apollo. We would like some supper 'cos we is hung'y, and it's past our tea hour; but then we must go stwaight home."
"All right, my little love; everything can be managed to your satisfaction. My son has got a pony and cart, and he'll drive you over to the Rectory in a twinkling, after your appetites are satisfied. I can't abear to see little children real hungry. You come along with me this minute or the supper will be eat up."
Diana hesitated no longer. She carried her broken bow on one arm, and she slung her arrow, by a string, round her neck; then, taking one of Mother Rodesia's large brown hands, and Orion taking the other, the two children trotted deeper into the dark wood. They all three walked for over a mile, and the wood seemed to get darker and denser, and the children's little feet more and more tired. Orion also began to complain that the hole inside him was getting bigger and bigger; but Mother Rodesia, now that she had got them to go with her, said very few words, and did not take the least notice of their complaints. At last, when they suddenly felt that they could not go another step, so great was their fatigue, they came out on an open clearing in the wood, in the center of which a great big tent was pitched. Several smaller tents were also to be seen in the neighborhood of the big one, and a lot of children, very brown and ugly, and only half-dressed, were lying about on the grass, squabbling and rolling over one another. Some dogs also were with the children, and an old woman, a good deal browner than Mother Rodesia, was sitting at the door of the big tent.
As soon as ever the children saw the little strangers,they scrambled to their feet with a cry, and instantly surrounded Mother Rodesia and Orion and Diana.
"Back, all of you, you little rascallions," said Mother Rodesia; "back, or I'll cuff you. Where's Mother Bridget? I want to speak to her?"
When Mother Rodesia said this the old woman at the door of the principal tent rose slowly and came to meet them.
"Well, Rodesia," she said, "and so you has found these little strangers in the wood? What purty little dears!"
"Yes, I have found them," said Mother Rodesia, "and I have brought them home to supper. After supper we are to send them home. They hail from the Rectory. Is Jack anywhere about?"
"I saw him not half an hour back," said the old woman; "he had just brought in a fat hare, and I popped it into the pot for supper. You can smell it from here, little master," she said, stooping suddenly down and letting her brown, wrinkled, aged face come within an inch or two of Orion's. He started back, frightened. He had never seen anyone so old nor so ugly before. Even the thought of the strawberries and cream, and the milk and cake, could not compensate for the look on Mother Bridget's face.
Diana, however, was not easily alarmed.
"The stuff in the pot smells vedy good," she said, sniffing. "I could shoot lots of hares, 'cos I is the gweatest huntwess in all the world. I is Diana. Did you ever hear of Diana, ugly old woman?"
"You had best not call Mother Bridget names," said Mother Rodesia, giving Diana a violent shake as she spoke.
But the little girl leaped lightly away from her.
"I always call peoples just what I think them," she said; "I wouldn't be the gweat Diana if I didn't. I has not got one scwap of fear in me, so you needn't think to come wound me that way. I do think she is awfu' ugly. She's uglier than Aunt Jane, what Iusedto think was the ugliest person in the world. You had best not twy to fwighten me, for it can't be done."
"What a spirited little missy it is!" said Mother Bridget, gazing with admiration at Diana. "Why, now, she is a fine little child. I'm sure, dearie, I don't mind whether you call me ugly or not; it don't matter the least bit in the world to me. And how old may you be, my little love?"
"I is five," answered Diana. "I's a well-grown girl, isn't I?"
"That you are, missy, and hungry, too, I guess. You shall have some beautiful hare soup."
"I don't want hare soup," answered Diana; "I want what that woman pwomised—stwawberries and k'eam, and milk and cake—and then, perhaps, alittlesoup. I don't want soup to begin."
"Well," said the old woman, "we hasn't got no strawberries, nor no milk, nor no cake—we are very poor folks here, missy. A little lady must be content with what she can get, unless, my dear, you would like to pay 'andsome for it."
"I has nothing to pay with," answered Diana. "I would, if I had the money, but I hasn't got none. I's sossy," she continued, looking full at Mother Rodesia as she spoke, "that you big, big woman told such awfu' lies. But, now that we has come, we'll take a little hare soup. Orion, you stand near me, and don't any of you dirty peoples come up too close, 'cos I can'tabear dirty peoples. I is the gweatest shot in all the world, and Orion, he's a giant."
Two or three men had approached at that moment, and they all began to laugh heartily when poor little pale Orion was called a giant.
"You can see him in the sky sometimes on starful nights," continued Diana, "and he has got a belt and a sword."
"Well, to be sure, poor little thing," said Mother Rodesia, "she must be a bit off her head, but she's a fine little spirited thing for all that. I think she would just about do. You come along here for a minute, Jack, and let me talk to you."
The man called Jack moved a few steps away, and Mother Rodesia followed him. They began to talk together in low and earnest voices. At first the man shook his head as he listened to Mother Rodesia, but by degrees he began to agree with some suggestion she was making, and finally he nodded emphatically, and at last was heard to say:
"It shall be done."
Meanwhile Diana, with one arm clasped protectingly round Orion's waist, was partaking of the soup which old Mother Bridget had ladled into a little bowl. Orion was provided with a similar bowl of the very excellent liquid. The soup contained meat and vegetables, pieces of bread and quantities of good gravy, and, as Diana and Orion were very hungry indeed, they ate up their portions, while the gypsy children clustered round them, coming closer and closer each minute. Diana's eyes, however, were as black as theirs, and her manner twice as spirited. She would not allow them to approach too close.
"You had best not take lib'ties," she said. "I isa gweat lady; I is Diana, the biggest shot in all the world."
"Oh, lawk! hark to her," cried one of the boys. "I wonder if you could shoot me, little miss?"
"Shoot you, boy?" cried Diana. "That I could. You would be shotted down dead if I was to take up my bow and use my arrow."
At last the children had finished the contents of their bowls, and rose solemnly to their feet.
"Now," said Diana, going up to Mother Bridget, "I are vedy obliged to you; you has been kind; you has gived us good supper. We'll 'scuse 'bout the stwawberries and k'eam and the milk and cake, 'cos you didn't know that the other big woman told lots of lies. And now, p'ease, we are going home. We isn't glad to go home, but we is going. P'ease tell the man to put pony to cart, and dwive us home as fast as he can."
"Yes, indeed, my little dear," said Mother Bridget; "there aint one moment to be lost. You just come inside the tent, though, first for a minute."
"I don't want to go inside that dirty tent," said Diana; "I don't like dirt. You had best not twy to take lib'ties. I is Diana, and this is Orion, and we is both very big peoples indeed."
At that moment Mother Rodesia came forward.
"They need not go into the tent," she said to the old woman; "I can manage better than that. Just you help lift 'em into the cart; it's a dark night, and there'll be no stars, and we can get off as far as——" Here she dropped her voice, and Diana could not hear the next words.
"I'm going with them," she continued, "and Jack will drive. They are exactly the kind of children Benwants. Now then, little missy, jump in. Ah, here you are! You'll be glad of the drive, won't you?"
"When will we get back to Wectory?" asked Diana.
"In about an hour, missy."
"Come 'long, Orion," said Diana, "you sit next me. Hold my hand, poor little boy, case you is fwightened. Diana never was fwightened; that isn't her."
Orion scrambled also into the cart, and the two children huddled up close together. Mother Rodesia got in with them, and sat down at the opposite side, with her knees huddled up close to her chin. The man called Jack mounted the driver's seat, whacked the pony with two or three hard touches of his whip and away they bounded.
The night was very dark, and the cart rattled roughly, and jolted and banged the children about, but Orion felt comforted and contented after his good supper, and Diana's fat little arm felt warm round his neck, and soon his head rested on her shoulder and he was sound asleep. Not so little Diana. She sat wide awake and gazed hard at the woman, whose dark eyes were seen to flash now and then as the party jolted over the roads.
"Tell him to go k'icker," said Diana. "I must get home afore Uncle William goes to bed. Aunt Jane might beat me again, and I don't want to be beated. Tell him to go k'icker, Mother 'Odesia."
Mother Rodesia was most kind and obliging. The pony was whipped up, and now it seemed to Diana's excited fancy that they quite flew over the road. She felt for her broken bow, which she had laid by her side, then she cuddled up closer to Orion, and whispered to herself:
"Mother 'Odesia's a good woman when all's said, done. She has gived us supper and soon we'll be home; and Uncle William won't be in bed, and he won't let c'uel Aunt Jane beat me. It's all wight; I may just as well go to s'eep, 'cos I is drefful s'eepy, and it's late. I wonder if the night will be starful, and if I'll see Orion up in the sky. Anyhow, there's no stars at pwesent, and I had best go to s'eep."
So the little girl cuddled herself up close to her brother, and soon the big dark eyes were shut, and she was happy in the land of dreams.
When this happened, Mother Rodesia softly and stealthily changed her position. She stretched out her hand and touched Jack on his arm. This seemed to have been an arranged signal, for he drew up the pony at once.
They were still under the shelter of the great woods which extended for miles over that part of the country.
"We had best begin to change their clothes now," said Mother Rodesia. "They are both as sound asnails, and I don't want the clothes to be seen by Ben, for he's safe to pawn 'em, and if he pawns 'em the police may get 'em, and then the children may be traced, and we may get into hot water."
"But, mother," said Jack, "do you dare to disturb them now when they are asleep? That young 'un with the black eyes is such a fury; seemed to me as if she was never goin' off."
"She's all right now," said Mother Rodesia. "She's just dead tired. Of course, if I had had my way, I'd have put a little of that syrup into their soup—Mother Winslow's Syrup—but Mother Bridget wouldn't have it. She took quite a fancy to the little gal, and all on account of her firing up and calling her names."
Jack laughed.
"I never seed sech a little 'un," he said, "sech a sparky little piece. Ben's in rare luck. I'd like to keep her for a sort of little sister of my own—she'd amuse me fine."
"Well, well, you aint a-goin' to have her," said Mother Rodesia. "I'm goin' to ask thirty shillin's for her and thirty shillin's for the boy. That'll be three pund—not a bad night's work; eh, Jack?"
"No," replied Jack; but then he continued after a pause, "You'll tell him, won't you, mother, to be good to the children. I wouldn't like to think that little 'un was treated cruel, and her sperit broke—she has got a fine sperit, bless her; I wouldn't like it to be broke. I don't care for the little boy. There's nothing in 'im."
"Well, stop talking now," said Mother Rodesia. "They must be missed at the Rectory by this time, and they'll be sendin' people out to look for 'em. It'sa rare stroke of luck that nobody knows that we are camping in the Fairy Dell, for if they did they would be sure to come straight to us, knowin' that poor gypsies is alwayssupposedto kidnap children. Now, Jack, you just hold the pony as still as you can, and I'll slip the clothes off the pair of 'em."
Little Diana, in her deep sleep, was not at all disturbed when stout hands lifted her away from Orion, and when she lay stretched out flat on a large lap. One by one her clothes were untied and slipped off her pretty little body, and some very ugly, sack-like garments substituted in their place. Diana had only a dim feeling in her dreams that mother was back again, and was undressing her, and that she was very glad to get into bed. And when the same process of undressing took place on little Orion, he was still sounder asleep and still more indifferent to the fact that he was turned sometimes over on his face, and sometimes on his back, and that his pretty, dainty clothes, which his own mother had bought for him, were removed, never to be worn by him again.
"Now, then," said Mother Rodesia, when she had laid the two children back again upon the straw, "when they awake, and if Ben is not there, we must dye their faces with walnut juice; but we can't begin that now, for they are sure to howl a good bit, and if folks are near, they will hear them and come to the rescue. Jack, have you got that spade 'andy?"
The man, without a word, lifted a portion of the straw in the cart, and took out a spade.
"That's right," said the woman. "You make a deep hole under that tree, and put all the clothes in. Bury 'em well. I'll rescue 'em and pawn 'em myself when we go to the West of England in the winter,but for the present they must stay under ground. See, I'll wrap 'em up in this good piece of stout brown paper, and then perhaps they won't get much spoiled."
Jack took the little bundle (there were the soft, pretty socks, the neat little shoes, even the ribbon with which Diana's hair was tied), and twisted them all up into a bundle. Then his mother wrapped the bundle in the piece of brown paper, and gave it to him to bury.
This being done the pony was once more whipped up, and the cart proceeded at a rapid rate. They were now on the highroad, and going in the direction of a large town. The town was called Maplehurst. It was fifteen miles away from the Rectory of Super-Ashton.
Little Diana slept on and on, and the sun was beginning to send faint rays of light into the eastern sky, when at last she opened her eyes.
"Where is I?" she said with a gasp.
"With me, my little dear; you are as safe as child can be," said Mother Rodesia. "Don't you stir, my love; you are just as good as you was in your little bed. See, let me lay this rug over you."
She threw a piece of heavy tarpaulin, lined with cloth, over the child as she spoke.
Diana yawned in a comfortable manner.
"Isn't we at Wectory yet?" she asked.
"No, dear; the pony went lame, and we had to stop for a good bit on the road; but if you like to go to sleep again, you'll be there when next you wake."
"I isn't s'eepy any longer," said Diana, sitting bolt upright in the cart. "Oh, what a funny dwess I has on. Where is my nice b'ack dwess, and my pinafore, and my shoes and socks?"
"Well, dear," said Mother Rodesia, "you were so dead asleep, and the pony got that lame we couldn't stir hand nor foot, so I thought it best to put a little nightdress on you."
"But what a funny one," said Diana, gazing with curious admiration at the stout, sack-like garment.
"It's the best poor Mother Rodesia has, my dear. I'm awful poor, you know."
"Is you?" asked Diana.
"Yes, dear."
"And does you mind?" asked Diana.
"Yes, dear; 'cos when people are poor they can't get bread to eat, and then they can't get nice clothes like you, little missy. You are a very rich little gal; aint you, little dear?"
"My faver's awfu' rich," said Diana. "We used to live in a most beaut'ful house, and we had a beaut'ful garding to play in. We had animals there—lots and lots. Woman, is you fond of animals—mices and that sort?"
"Love—I just adores 'em."
"Then youisa nice sort," answered Diana. She left her place by Orion and crept up close to the woman.
"May I sit on your lap?" she said.
Mother Rodesia made a place for her at once.
"Put your arm wound me, p'ease; I is still a teeny bit s'eepy."
"You lay your head against my breast, little love, and you'll go off into a beautiful sleep, and I'll keep you nice and warm, for hot as the days are, it's chilly in the mornin's."
"When my faver comes home I'll ask him to give you lots of money, Mother 'Odesia," said Diana.
She closed her eyes as she spoke, and in another moment was once again slumbering peacefully.
When little Diana next opened her eyes all was completely changed. She was no longer in the funny cart with the straw. Her nightdress was still on her, it is true, and there were neither shoes nor stockings on her bare feet; but she and Orion found themselves in a dirty room with a nasty smell. Both children looked at one another, and both felt cold and frightened. The broad daylight was lighting up the room, and Diana could perceive that there was scarcely any furniture in it. Her bow was also gone, and her arrow no longer hung round her neck. She clutched a firm hold of Orion's hand.
"Don't you be afeared, Orion," she said. "Don't you forget you is a big giant. Don't you forget you has got your belt and your sword."
"But I haven't, that's just it," replied Orion. "Diana, I aren't a giant, and I'm awfu' frightened."
"Where can us be?" said Diana. "What a keer room! But there's one good comfort; there isn't no aunts anywheres 'bout."
"I can't remember nothing," said Orion. "Why aren't we in bed? It's too early to get up. How have we got into this horrid little room?"
"I don't know more nor you," said Diana, "only I do know that we has got to be bwave. Don't you forget, Orion, that mother gived you your name, and that you is a giant, whether you likes it or not. Don't you forget that, and I won't forget that I is Diana, and that mother gived me my name too, and that I is the bwavest huntwess in all the world."
"But you haven't got a bow and arrow," said Orion.
Diana was silent for a moment.
"Anyhow," she said, with a little shake, "I isn't going to be fwightened. Let's sit close together, and let's think."
"Why can't we open that door and go out?" said Orion. "Why should we stay in this horrid room?"
"'Cos our foots is bare," said Diana.
"But don't let's mind that," said Orion; "let's go to the door and open it, and let's run back to Rectory. I'd rather have Aunt Jane and Miss Ramsay than this horrid room—and oh, Diana! my tumtum has got a big hole in it again."
"And mine has too," answered Diana. "I could eat a whole loaf, that I could."
"Hush!" whispered Orion; "somebody's coming. Oh, come close to me, Diana!"
"Now, you isn't to be fwightened, little boy," said Diana. "I is near you, and I isn't fwightened of nobody."
At that moment the door was flung open, and Mother Rodesia, accompanied by a tall, dark man, with a scowling face, came in.
"Mornin', little dears," said Mother Rodesia. "Now I have got something to say to you."
"P'ease, where's Wectory?" asked Diana.
"You are not going there just for the present, my dear. This man, Ben is his name—you told me last night that you were fond of uncles—you can call 'im Uncle Ben; he's very kind and very, very fond of children."
"Oh, yes! I'm very fond of children," said the man. He spoke in a gruff voice which seemed to come right from the bottom of his chest.
"And as you don't like aunts," continued Mother Rodesia, "I have brought an uncle. You can call'im Uncle Ben; and if you do just what he says, why, you'll be as happy as the day is long."
"Look here," said the man; "you stop your talk, Rodesia. Before I makes myself an uncle to these kids I must see what sort they are. You stand up along here, little gal, and let me examine you."
Diana scrambled instantly to her feet and went straight up to the man. She gave him a keen glance from her piercing black eyes.
"What wight has you to speak to me in that sort of style?" she said. "You isn't my uncle, and I isn't going to have nothing to do with you."
"There," said Mother Rodesia; "did I say one word too much for her?"
The man burst into a loud laugh.
"No, that you didn't," he said; "and aint you frightened of me, missy?"
"Fwightened?" replied Diana; "that aren't me." She turned her back and strode back to Orion.
"'Member you is a giant," she said, in a whisper; "and giants never is fwightened."
The man laughed again.
"Well, they are a queer little pair," he said. "I tell you what it is, Rodesia Lee; I'll give you a pund apiece for 'em. Come, now; not a penny more."
Diana stared very hard indeed when these words were uttered. She had not the faintest idea what a "pund apiece" meant. Mother Rodesia seemed to consider.
"And you may think yourself in rare luck," continued the man; "for, remember, if it is known—" Here he walked to the farthest end of the room, and Mother Rodesia followed him.
"You had best close up the bargain and be quickabout it," he said; "for not one penny more will you drag out of me. I'll give you a gold sov. for each of 'em, and that's as much as I can manage. They will take a sight of training, and then there's the risk."
"Very well," said Mother Rodesia, "I suppose I had best do it; only they are worth more. There's a fortune in that little gal, and whenever you are tired of her, why, there's a rich father to fall back on. I spect he would give a sight of money to have her back again. Very well, we'll agree; only, if ever you do get a fortune out of that child, Ben Holt, you might remember poor Rodesia Lee."
The man laughed and patted Mother Rodesia on her shoulder. Then the pair left the room, locking the door behind them.
"What does it all mean?" said Orion.
"I don't know," said Diana; "but I aren't fwightened; that aren't me." Her little voice shook as she spoke, and she had great difficulty in keeping the tears back from her big, black eyes.
At the end of half an hour the door of the small room was again unlocked, and a woman with a thin, pale face, and somewhat frightened manner, appeared. She carried a tray in her hand, which contained two little bowls of porridge, and a small jug of milk. "So you are the two young 'uns," she said. "Well, you had best be quick and eat up your breakfast. Uncle Ben is going to have a rehearsal, and he wants you to see what they are all doing."
"We hasn't got no Uncle Ben," said Diana; "don't be silly, woman. What's your name?" she added.
"I'm generally called Aunt Sarah," was the reply; "and now, look here, you two little mites; I'll be good to you if you'll let me. I'm real sorry you has come, and it's against my wish, you remember that. Now, eat up your breakfasts, both of you. Uncle Ben, he don't know that I have brought you porridge and milk; but children as young as you are can't eat coarse food. Sup up your porridge, my dears."
"Thank you very much indeed, Aunt Sawah," said Diana, slipping down from her seat close to Orion on the bench, and preparing to attack her breakfast. "P'w'aps," she continued, as she put great mouthfuls of porridge into her mouth, "when we has finished this nice bekfus you'll take us back to Wectory? You see, you isn't our aunt weally, not by no manner ofwights, and Uncle Ben isn't our uncle, and so we ought not to stay here; and if we go back to Wectory, why, Uncle William, what's our weal uncle, p'w'aps he would pay you money, if it's money you wants."
"Yes; it's true enough, it is money we want," replied the woman; "but, my dear," she added, the tears springing to her eyes, "I can't take you back to no Rectory. You have just got to stay here and to watch Uncle Ben when he's going through his rehearsal, and then this afternoon we are going on a very long journey, and you are coming with us—and oh, I forgot to say that, when you have finished your breakfast, I must put something on your faces."
"Something on our faces?" said Diana.
"Yes, my little love; it has to be done. But when we get to another part of the country I'll wash the ugly stuff off again, and you'll look as fair and pretty as you do now. It won't make much difference after all to you, little missy," she added, gazing fixedly at Diana, "'cos you are very dark by nature. Yes, I had a little kid of my own, a little gal, and she wasn't unlike you—no, not by no means. I'll be kind to you for her pretty sake, my little dear. Now, eat your breakfast, and be quick, the pair of you."
"Has your little girl what was like me got deaded?" asked Diana, in a very thoughtful and earnest voice.
"She is dead, my dear. Yes, yes, she is dead," replied the woman. "Eat up your breakfast now; I have no time to answer questions."
Orion did not need a second bidding; he had already plunged his spoon into the porridge, and soon his little bowl was empty, and also the jug of milk. Diana also finished her breakfast, but more thoughtfully. She was a wonderfully wise little girl for hertender years, and at the present moment she was dreadfully puzzled to know what to do. She was quite shrewd enough to guess that Mother Rodesia was a bad sort of woman, and that she, Diana, had done wrong ever to trust herself to her. Uncle Ben, too, in spite of her brave words, terrified her more or less. All things considered, therefore, she would not have been at all sorry to find herself back again at the Rectory, with Miss Ramsay to teach her, and Aunt Jane hovering in the background. "Isn't it funny, we has got our nightdwesses on?" she said suddenly. "Woman, it's not pwoper to have our bekfus in our nightdwesses; and these are such keer nightdwesses, not at all what they ought to be. Our mother would not like us to be dwessed in this sort of style. Can you get our day dwesses, p'ease, for us to put on, Aunt Sawah?"
"No; I can't get the dresses you wore yesterday," replied Aunt Sarah; "but for all that you shall wear a very pretty little frock. I have got a blue one for you with white wings. What do you say to that?"
"B'ue, with white wings?" echoed Diana. "It sounds pwetty; but I must have a b'ack bow, p'ease, woman, 'cos our mother has gone away to the angels, you underland; and when mothers go to the angels little girls wear b'ack bows—at least, that's what Iris says. Oh, I say, Orion," suddenly concluded Diana; "what is we to do without Iris? She is our little mother now. You underland what I mean; doesn't you, Orion?"
The only answer Orion made was to fling himself flat down on the floor and begin to howl with all his might.
"You had best not do that, young sir," said AuntSarah, "for if Uncle Ben hears he'll be awful angry. He is a terrible man when he's angered. It's only right I should tell you the solemn truth, you poor little kids."
"We isn't kids; we is sildrens," said Diana.
"Well, you poor little children, then. Now, young master, if you'll take my advice, you'll do exactly what I tell you. I'm going to be a friend to you and to your little sister. I'll give you, by hook or by crook, the very best food I can get, and the prettiest dresses to wear, and I'll see that my husband, Ben Holt, aint rough to you, and I'll see, also, that Molly and Kitty and Susan, the circus girls, are kind to you, and that Tom, the clown, behaves as he ought; but I can do nothing if you won't obey me. And if you begin by angering Uncle Ben, why, it'll be all up with you, my little dears."
"I don't know what you mean by all up," answered Diana, her eyes sparkling brightly; "and what's more, I don't care. But I'd like to know if you has a weal live clown about, 'cos I like clowns and I love pant'mimes. I went to a pant'mime 'fore mother was took to the angels."
"Our show is something like a pantomime, and yet it's different," replied Aunt Sarah. "Now then, missy, stop talking, for we has no time to waste. Come over here and let me put this nice stuff on your face. It won't hurt you one little bit—it's just to make you look a little browner than you do now, you and little master. Now, come along here, and let me do it at once. Afterwards, I'll dress you in real pretty things. You, little missy, shall wear some of my own child's clothes—the little Rachel what died. My heart broke when she died, missy, and if I didn't mean to be realkind to you I wouldn't put her pretty little dress on you, that I wouldn't."
Orion stepped back in some alarm when he saw the woman stirring something very brown and ugly in a tin can.
"I don't want that horrid stuff on my face," he said.
"But you must have it, master; if you don't, Uncle Ben will use you dreadful," said the woman. "Now, missy, tell your little brother to be guided by me. If he don't do what I tell 'im he'll suffer, and I won't be able to help either of you."
"Don't be silly, Orion," said Diana. "What do a little bwown stuff matter? And Aunt Sawah's wather a nice sort of woman. I'll do what you wish, Aunt Sawah." She came up as she spoke, pushed her black, tangled hair away from her charming little face, and allowed Aunt Sarah to cover it with the walnut juice. "It's sort of sticky, and it don't smell nice," said the little girl; "but I spects you can't help it. I spects you is kind about your heart; isn't you?"
"Yes, my little dear; I try to be," said the woman. "Now, call your brother over, and let me dye his face and neck and little hands."
"Come 'long, Orion," said Diana; "don't be silly."
"You do look so ugly, Diana," answered Orion.
"Well, what do it matter?" said Diana. "I has to p'ease Aunt Sawah; she's a nice sort of a woman. I wather like her."
Orion, who had always submitted to Diana, submitted again now as a matter of course. The walnut dye was not pleasant; he felt quite sticky and uncomfortable, but he allowed it to cover his little face and his white neck and hands.
The dye dried very quickly, and the children lookedas like two gypsies as possible when they surveyed one another.
"Now, I'm going to fetch the clothes," said Aunt Sarah.
She left the room, returning in a very few moments with a pretty spangled suit of knickerbockers, which she put on Orion, and which quite enchanted him.
"If you are a good boy," she continued, "you won't dislike the life with us. I wonder if you are fond of horses?"
"Horses!" said Orion, his eyes sparkling. "Rather!"
"Well, Uncle Ben will teach you to ride, and to jump, and to do all kinds of things. Now, just stand back, and let me dress little missy, for Ben is waiting to begin the rehearsal. Missy, you let me put on your dress."
Diana was only too willing to be attired in a flimsy skirt of white tarlatan, which stuck out from her little figure; she also wore wings on her shoulders, and her black hair was rendered gay with bows of crimson ribbon. She felt quite excited and pleased with herself.
"I spects I look awfu' pwetty," she said. "I'd like to see my own self in a looking-glass. Has you got a looking-glass in your pocket, Aunt Sawah?"
"Yes, dear; a small one."
Aunt Sarah whipped her hand into a deep pocket and took out a glass. Diana surveyed herself critically in its depths.
"I like my dwess," she said, "but I don't like this howid bwown stuff on my face."
"Never mind, dear; bear it for the present. When we get down to the southwest of England it shall allbe taken off; but up here Uncle Ben thinks it best for you both to have it on."
"Why?" asked Diana.
Aunt Sarah was puzzled for a moment.
"'Cos it's wholesome," she said at last.
"And isn't it wholesome in the southwest of England?" asked Diana.
Aunt Sarah was puzzled how to reply. Diana, who was gazing at her very intently, burst into a clear, childish laugh.
"Do you know youisa humbug?" she said. "You know perfect well why you is using that. You want to hide us, that's why. What a silly old Aunt Sawah you is!"
Before Aunt Sarah could make a suitable reply, the loud voice of Uncle Ben was heard in the distance.
"Come, Sarah," he called, "bring those kids along. I can't be kept waiting another minute."
"Now then, dears," said Aunt Sarah, "I'll take you to the circus."
"The circus!" cried Diana. "Is we going to a circus? I love 'em!"
"Well, my dear, you are not only going toseea circus, but you are going soon to be part of a circus. Uncle Ben owns one; it's a sort of traveling circus. He takes it about with him from one part of the country to another. You'll be part of the circus in the future, little miss."
"And may I wide horses?" asked Diana.
"Surely, my dear, and perhaps other animals as well. Oh, never fear! you'll be taught all kinds of queer things. You'll have quite a nice time if you keep on the buttered side of Uncle Ben."
"The buttered side! That must be g'easy," said Diana.
"Well, you keep on it, miss. If he's kind to you, why, all will be right, and, for my part, I'll see you want for nothing."
"I do believe," said Diana, her eyes sparkling; she turned as she spoke and clasped one of Orion's hands—"I do weally b'lieve this is better nor aunt's. Do come 'long, Orion; I always did love circuses."
Aunt Sarah led the children down a long, narrow passage, and then across an open court, until presently they found themselves inside the entrance of a huge circular tent. Here seats were arranged for a crowd of people, all of which were, of course, empty at present; but the whole of the center of the tent was occupied by a wide arena covered with sand. In the middle of this space stood Uncle Ben. He had a big whip in his hand, and looked very fierce and terrible.
"There you are at last, Sarah!" he called out. "Oh, and there are the kids!" He stepped forward as he spoke. "Now, little missy," he said, looking full at Diana, "what would you say if I was to put you on top of a horse's back? You wouldn't be frightened, would you?"
"No," replied Diana.
"I don't believe you would. I believe you are a plucky little girl. Well, I'd just as lief give you a lesson straight away, for you'll have to take your part in the show in a week from now. We'll let her ride round the arena on Greased Lightning; eh, Sarah?"
"Oh, I wouldn't! Not on that 'orse," said the woman. She clasped her hands imploringly together. "Remember, Ben," she continued, speaking in atimorous voice, and her color coming and going, "remember that Greased Lightning is a very wicious sort of 'orse, and this is only a little child. Has you ever been on a 'orse's back afore, little love?"
"Sometimes," replied Diana. "And my faver said when I got older he would give me a horse of my own to wide. He said I was too young yet, you know; but I aren't fwightened," she added. "I don't mind a bit sitting on the back of G'eased Lightning. But what a funny name!"
"Right you are!" said the man. "You shall have your ride. I can see that you have plenty of pluck, young 'un. Come along, then, little missy. Tom, you go and bring out Greased Lightning this minute."
A tall lad, with red hair and a cast in one eye, now made his appearance in the arena of the circus. At Uncle Ben's words he turned abruptly, disappeared through a curtain, and a moment later re-entered, leading a very graceful chestnut horse by a bridle. The creature pawed the ground as it walked, and arched its stately neck.
"You had best have a saddle, guv'nor," said the boy.
"None of your sauce, Tom. The young 'un must learn to ride bare-back, and at once. I'll walk round with her the first time. Now then, missy."
Diana was clapping her hands; her eyes were blazing with excitement.
"It's kite 'licious," she said, jumping up and down. "I aren't fwightened," she continued; "that aren't me."
The next moment she was lifted on to the back of Greased Lightning. In all probability the horsewhich bore that title had never carried such a feather-weight as little Diana before. Uncle Ben began to lead him round and round the circus. Diana sat perfectly upright; she did not attempt even to clutch a hair of his mane. Uncle Ben praised her.
"You are a plucky little missy," he said. "Why, you'll do fine. Now, do you think you can stand on the horse?"
"Course," replied Diana. "What's foots for, you silly man, if not to stand? You is silly, Uncle Ben."
"I never!" said Uncle Ben, bursting out laughing. "Well, missy, if I am silly, you has got a lot of sauce. 'What's good for the goose is good for the gander.'"
"That sounds howid vulgar, and I don't underland," answered Diana, in a dignified tone. "I'll stand on my two foots if you'll hold G'eased Lightning k'ite still."
"Woe! stay quiet this minute," said the man to the horse. The pretty creature instantly obeyed, and little Diana, nothing loath, scrambled on to her small feet. The horse moved gently forward, and the little child managed to keep her balance. She went the entire round of the circus two or three times in this position, and then Uncle Ben, saying that she was a very fine little creature, and would answer his purposes to a nicety, lifted her down in the height of good humor.
"Take care of her," he said, bringing her back to Aunt Sarah; "there's a fortune in her, little mite that she is. She need not do any more to-day. Why, I'll have her trained in no time when we get down to thewest of England. She'll do her work beautiful, and will take the house by storm. Now then, master, it's your turn. We must have a pair of you, you know—a boy and a girl. It's the very thing to draw crowds in the west."
But alas! Orion, notwithstanding his brave name, was made of very different stuff from his sister. He felt fear, where Diana, in all truth, did not know the meaning of the word. He shivered visibly when he was lifted on to Greased Lightning's back. Diana called out to him in an encouraging and cheery voice.
"Don't forget you is a giant," she said. "Think, of yous sword and yous belt. Now then, gee up! pretty horse; I only wishes I was widing you."
"Come, young master, don't clutch the mane so hard," said Holt. "Hands off, I say! Greased Lightning won't stand that kind of treatment."
But the more the manager spoke the tighter did Orion grasp the black mane of the chestnut horse. Greased Lightning began to paw the ground and to show many signs of discomfort; whereupon Orion uttered a piercing cry and began slipping backwards, towards the tail of the beast.
"Come," said the man; "get back to your seat this minute. I have a whip in my hand, and it can sting; come, young sir!"
"Don't you dare to stwike my bwother!" said Diana, running across the arena.
Some girls, who had just come in, and several men, all burst out laughing.
"You had best come back, miss; you had best not anger him," said a fair-haired girl, stretching out her hand to the little child as she spoke.
"Anger him?" said Diana. "I doesn't know what you mean. Does you think I are going to let Orion be hurted? Listen to me, man. You had best let Orion jump off this morning, 'cos he's tired. I'll talk to him all about widing to-morrow. Let him get down now, p'ease, big man."
"Not until he has been twice round the circus," said Uncle Ben. "You stand aside, missy, or Greased Lightning may tread on you."
But Diana was not to be so easily restrained. She now flew up to Uncle Ben and tried to pull his big whip from his hand.
"You don't dare to stwike my bwother!" she repeated, her eyes flashing. Her determined attitude, the fearlessness of her whole little nature induced Uncle Ben to yield to her for the nonce. This he did more, particularly as he saw that the little boy was really incapable of keeping his seat another moment.
"Well, then, look here, little miss," he said; "you has behaved very well indeed yourself, and so I'll let the little chap off this morning. Now you know, sir, it is 'cos of your sister, for she's a plucky 'un; so you may go back to my wife. Here, Sarah; take the pair of 'em. You can go and sit on one of them chairs over there, children, and see us as we go through our rehearsal."
The rest of the morning was a truly exciting, not to say breathless, time to Diana. She had not an instant to regret her absence from Iris and Apollo. The exploits, the feats performed by the three circus girls, and by Tom the clown, to say nothing of the advent of the elephant and of the donkey who could perform numberless tricks, and finally, the performances of thetroop of dogs, who seemed more human than most human beings, all fascinated the little girl. Even Orion forgot his terrors as he looked on; his cheeks flamed through their walnut dye, and his dark eyes grew brighter than ever.
When the rehearsal was at last over, the whole party rushed back to their rooms, where a hasty meal was served; and little Diana sat between two of the circus girls and was petted, and laughed at, and made much of, and Orion kept close to Aunt Sarah, who took care that he should have as many tit-bits as she could manage to secure for him.
At three o'clock there was a public performance, but now neither Diana nor Orion was allowed to be present. They found themselves shut up once more in the ugly little room, where Mother Rodesia had first taken them. From this place they could hear as a sort of distant echo the shouts of the men and women who were performing, and the cheers of the people who were looking on.
At six o'clock the performance came to an end, and then, indeed, began a fearful bustle and excitement. People were running here, there, and everywhere, and, two hours later, the great vans were all packed, the animals properly secured, and the party, with the exception of Aunt Sarah, Diana, and Orion, had starteden routefor the west of England.