es filled with tears,
and Jackie saw them; as usual, he was her comforter in distress, and
drawing near, with a blackened potato and a roasted apple in his hand,
he seated himself close to her in a friendly manner.

"I cooked 'em for you myself," he said, as he made his offering;
"they're awfully good ones."

This attention consoled Mary a little, and she managed to bear up, but a
dulness had fallen over the whole party; Fraulein was still tearful, and
Rice cross, so that none of the children were sorry when the wagonette
arrived to take them back to Wensdale. To Mary it was the greatest
possible relief; she never never wished to see Maskells again. When she
found herself tightly squeezed in between Fraulein and Jackie, with
friendly faces all round her, she began to feel safer, and very soon the
last glimpse of the tall chimneys was lost to sight in a turn of the
road. What a comfort it was to be with them all again! At another time
she would have complained that Jackie was taking up too much room, and
digging his elbow into her, but all that was altered. He could not
possibly be too close, her only dread was to be left alone. She was so
unusually meek, and looked so white, that presently Patrick, who was
sitting opposite and staring at her with large round eyes, remarked:

"I expect Mary saw the ghost, only she won't say so."

This interesting subject once started, lasted for some time, and Mary
was tortured with all manner of minute questions. She managed to answer
them all somehow, but with so much less spirit than usual that it was
plain to see something was wrong. Jackie made up his mind to ask her
afterwards, and meanwhile Fraulein interfered.

"You shall not tease any more with your questions," she said. "Mary is
fatigue."

But the questions had reminded Mary of something which till now she had
forgotten--Squire Chelwood's danger. She ought to warn Jackie; but if
she did, the gypsies would come and take her away, perhaps that very
night. She could not risk that. And yet, Jackie's father! It would be
too dreadful. "Ours you'll be for ever" seemed to sound in her ear: she
shuddered; no, she could not do it. Suddenly a thought struck her, and
she pulled Jackie gently by the sleeve.

"Jackie," she said softly, very softly, so that Seraminta might not
hear, "where does Hamlet sleep at night?"

Hamlet was a Danish boar-hound belonging to the squire.

"Hamlet," said Jackie. "Why, he sleeps jus