on in an unbroken
dream.

The bright sunlight had now faded, the short October day was drawing in,
the glory and heat of the morning had long departed, and Flower, whose
green cloth dress was very light in texture, felt herself shivering in
the sudden cold.

"Are you certain you are going to the nearest town?" she called out to
the man.

"Sure-_ly_," he responded back to her. He was stepping along at a
swinging pace, and Flower was very tired, and found it difficult to keep
up with him. Having begged of him so emphatically to hurry, she did not
like to ask him now to moderate his steps. To keep up with him at all
she had almost to run; and she was now not only hungry, cold, and tired,
but the constant quick motion took her breath away. They had left the
border of the moor, and were now in the middle of a most desolate piece
of country. As Flower looked around her she shivered with the first real
sensation of loneliness she had ever known. The moor seemed to fill the
whole horizon. Desolate moor and lowering sky--there seemed to be
nothing else in all the world.

"Where is the nearest town?" she gasped at last. "Oh, what a long, long
way off it is!"

"It's miles away!" said the man, suddenly stopping and turning round
fiercely upon her; "but ef you're hungry, there's a hut yer to the left
where my mother lives. She'll give you a bit of supper and a rest, ef so
be as you can pay her well."

"Oh, yes, I can pay her," responded Flower. The thought of any shelter
or any food was grateful to the fastidious girl now.

"I am very hungry and very tired," she said. "I will gladly rest in your
mother's cottage. Where is it?"

"I said as it wor a hut. There are two dawgs there: be you afeard?"

"Of _dogs_? I am not afraid of anything!" said Flower, curling her short
lip disdainfully.

"You _be_ a girl!" responded the man. He shambled on again in front, and
presently they came in sight of the deserted hermit's hut, where Polly
and Maggie a few weeks before had been led captive. A woman was standing
in the doorway, and by her side, sitting up on their haunches, were two
ugly, lean-looking dogs.

"Down, Cinder and Flinder!" said the woman. "Down you brutes! Now,
Patrick, what have you been up to? Whatever's that in your arms, and
who's a-follering of yer?"

"This yer's a babby," said the man, "and this yer's a girl. She,"
pointing to Flower, "wants to be took to the nearest town, and she have
money to pay, she says."