oop, out tumbled
Tim from the other side of a low hedge, where there was a dry ditch in
which he had been comfortably lying.

"Hush!" said Diana, glancing round her.

"There's no need," said Tim; "there's not a soul within hearing. I
needn't have come on before for that matter. No one saw us start."

"And which way do you go now?" asked the gipsy, setting Pamela down as
she spoke, to the child's great satisfaction, though she had not liked
to say to Diana that she was really too big to be carried.

"Straight on for about half a mile," answered the boy; "then there's a
road to the right takes us straight to the canal. It's not light enough
yet for you to see, but there's a little house close to the towing path
over there, where the boats often stop the night when it's crowded in
the town. That's where they're to be."

"All right," said Diana. "I'll go with you to the turn, and then I must
get back as fast as I can."

"Let me carry the basket," said Tim. He had a bundle under his arm, but
it was very light, for his possessions were few.

"What's in the basket?" asked Duke.

"All I could get," said Diana. "Some bread and eggs, and some oranges I
bought last night. I thought you'd be glad of them maybe. And Tim, you
have the money safe?"

Tim nodded his head.

In a few minutes they reached the road he had spoken of. In silence poor
Diana kissed the three children and turned away, for she could not
speak. But Duke and Pamela burst into tears.

"Oh if you would but come with us," they said over and over again. But
Diana shook her head.

"You shouldn't cry, master and missy dear, to go to your own home. It
was a wicked shame to take you from it, but I hope God will forgive me
the little I had to do with it, for I've truly done my best to get you
safe back. And you'll ask the kind gentleman and lady to be good to poor
Tim, and put him in an honest way of life."

"Oh yes," sobbed the children. And then Diana kissed them again and
resolutely turned away. But Tim ran after her.

"You don't think Mick'll beat you?" he said anxiously.

"He shan't have the chance," she answered scornfully. "No, no, Tim, I'll
take care of myself. Be a good boy; getting away from us is the best
thing could come to you. And some day maybe I'll have news of you, and
you of me perhaps."

Tim hastened back to the children, but his merry face was sad and his
heart heavy.

A short time brought them to the edge of the canal, and there su