ad, I'll go and see if they've gone; and we needn't quarrel
'bout it, for it strikes me as little missus won't come down here no
more, I scared her too much."

Jemmy burst into another hoarse fit of laughing, and went lumping off in
his big sea-boots to see if Celia and her dog were well out of sight,
before rejoining Ram to take the prisoner his repast.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

Three days passed, and the idea of losing her companion was so startling
to Celia, that she made no further journey toward the cliffs, in spite
of several efforts made by Grip to coax her in that direction. But on
the fourth day there was so mean and unsatisfactory a dinner at the
Hoze, of the paltry little rock fish caught by the labouring men, that,
as Celia watched her mother partaking of the unsatisfactory fare, and
thought how easily it might have been supplemented by a dish of
mushrooms and a blackberry pudding, she made up her mind that the next
day she would go.

"I could be very careful, and not go near any of the slopes running down
to the cliff, and I could make Grip keep with me. Yes, I will go," she
said.

The next morning she partook of her breakfast quite early--a simple
enough meal, consisting of barley bread and a cup of fresh milk from the
Shackles' farm, and, taking a basket, she called Grip, who came bounding
about her in a state of the most exuberant delight.

The dog's satisfaction was a little damped as his mistress took her way
toward the fir-wood, and he kept making rushes by another path. But it
was of no use; Celia had made her own plans, and, as the dog could not
coax her his way, and would not go alone, he had to follow her.

There was a reason for this route being chosen, for Celia did not care
to be seen by Ram, or any of the men who might be pretending to work
hard on Shackle's farm, which was ill tended, and consisted for the most
part of cliff grazing land; but somehow seemed to need quite a large
staff of labourers to keep it in such bad order.

By passing through the fir-wood, Celia meant to get out of sight of the
cottages, and she went on, with the dog following sulkily behind, but
reviving a little upon being given the basket to carry.

She trudged on for about a mile over the thin stony pastures, found a
fair number of small, sweet, pink-gilled mushrooms where the turf was
finest and richest, and gradually adding to her store of glistening
bramble-berries till her finger-tips were purple with