ch real and awful shapes, and
to agree with Dr. King and Mrs. Grey that the children had only gone off
for a frolic somewhere, and, like bad halfpence, would certainly come
back when least expected. They were not dead, she told herself; they
_could_ not be dead, she said in her heart over and over again. Darby,
the wise, manly little lad, many of whose quaint, sweet sayings were
carefully stored in his aunt's memory--Darby, with his clear eyes and
winning ways, lying among the mud and slime of the canal! Horrible! And
Joan, bright, merry, loving Joan--"little jumping Joan," she sometimes
called herself--the very sunbeam of prim, quiet Firgrove--Joan sleeping
among the fishes with folded hands and curtained eyes! Awful! And a long
shudder would seize Auntie Alice's slender figure. No, no! the children
were not drowned, she was certain; they would come back to them some day
and somehow: so from hour to hour she watched and waited, hoped and
prayed.

* * * * *

And now it is time to return to the old lime-kiln and our little
travellers hidden there.

Being abruptly left to himself by Moll in the darkness--for the moon
was now hidden behind a bank of dense black cloud--Joe prowled and
stamped and beat furiously among the furze bushes, while now and again a
snarl of baffled rage broke from him which boded ill for the future of
the fugitives--if he could only lay his hands upon them!

In a short time, however, he concluded apparently that further search in
that quarter, and with no light to guide him save "the cold light of
stars," would prove fruitless, for his retreating footsteps seemed to
follow Moll's. Then Darby and the dwarf felt free to breathe again, and
held each other's hands in mute thanksgiving for their deliverance.

But hark! what was that? Steps once more--Joe, probably, come back with
the newly-lighted lantern to take a final look around. This time he
would search the kiln himself. Then--And the dwarf noiselessly changed
his position so that the dark bundle which was Joan lay behind him, and
wrapped his long arms tightly round the boy, determined to shield them
to the last against all danger.

The steps came nearer and nearer, slow and deliberate; then they stopped
as if in indecision, then came on again--not down the incline this time,
but advancing from the front. Faster and louder thumped the hearts of
Darby and the dwarf as they watched and waited; nearer and nearer dr