rs, he had grown terribly
frightened for the possibilities which might lurk in the gloom of
Copsley Wood.

"Ay, it's me, an' no mistake," replied Mr. Grey readily. "But I'm
blessed if I knew ye at first in the dusk. 'They're tramps,' says I to
myself, 'or gipsy weans.' But then, when I got a good look at ye, I saw
that it was the little folks from Firgrove--Miss Turner's youngsters."

"We isn't Miss Turner's youngsters," struck in Joan stoutly; "we's
daddy's chil'ens."

"Ho, ho! so that's the way the wind blows!" laughed Mr. Grey. "Ye're a
pair o' pickles, anyway, an' no mistake! Who would think _ye_ were the
little angels whose pretty speeches my missis was divertin' me with all
the time I was at my tea! An' what may the two o' ye be doin' here in
the dark, I should like to know?" he demanded, in his big, gruff voice.

"We were lost--quite lost," cried Joan, "just like the babes in the
wood. If God hadn't sended you to find us, I s'pose robin redbreast
would have comed by-and-by to cover us up wif leaves and twigs and
fings."

"Tush!" and Mr. Grey laughed into the little girl's earnest face,
although he was moved at the thought of the anxiety and distress these
small creatures must have endured. "Lost! why, you're not more'n half a
dozen yards off the highroad."

"You must excuse Joan, please," put in Darby formally. "If she says
silly things sometimes, it's because she's so little. At least, that's
how I 'splains her to myself," he added.

Then he went on to give Mr. Grey a clear and full account of how and why
they were wandering at what was for them such an unusual hour in the
mazes of Copsley Wood--frankly owning up to more than his own share in
the escapade, casting not a shadow of blame upon his little sister.

"So, so!" said Mr. Grey, much amused by the lad's quaint manner and
grown-up air. "But I thought I heard some kind o' singin' as I came up
the hill. It was that fetched me into the wood. I had been down at
Firdale seein' about some seed-wheat for sowin' to-morrow, an' I was in
a hurry home."

"It was us you heard," Joan told him gravely. "We were askin' God to
send a star to show us the way out of the darkness."

"I'm afraid you'll certainly think my sister very childish," said Darby,
in an apologetic tone. "But you see, just when we had finished the first
verse of our hymn, a light really did shine. We didn't know at the time
that it was only the matches you were striking for your pipe, and Jo