es," and then
she seemed to be thinking. The children were quiet.

Presently she said, "Dears, when you say your prayers, I think you might
ask God to show His pity upon all prisoners and captives."

"To show His pity," Bobbie repeated slowly, "upon all prisoners and
captives. Is that right, Mother?"

"Yes," said Mother, "upon all prisoners and captives. All prisoners and
captives."

Chapter VI. Saviours of the train.

The Russian gentleman was better the next day, and the day after that
better still, and on the third day he was well enough to come into the
garden. A basket chair was put for him and he sat there, dressed in
clothes of Father's which were too big for him. But when Mother had
hemmed up the ends of the sleeves and the trousers, the clothes did
well enough. His was a kind face now that it was no longer tired and
frightened, and he smiled at the children whenever he saw them. They
wished very much that he could speak English. Mother wrote several
letters to people she thought might know whereabouts in England a
Russian gentleman's wife and family might possibly be; not to the people
she used to know before she came to live at Three Chimneys--she never
wrote to any of them--but strange people--Members of Parliament and
Editors of papers, and Secretaries of Societies.

And she did not do much of her story-writing, only corrected proofs as
she sat in the sun near the Russian, and talked to him every now and
then.

The children wanted very much to show how kindly they felt to this man
who had been sent to prison and to Siberia just for writing a beautiful
book about poor people. They could smile at him, of course; they could
and they did. But if you smile too constantly, the smile is apt to
get fixed like the smile of the hyaena. And then it no longer looks
friendly, but simply silly. So they tried other ways, and brought him
flowers till the place where he sat was surrounded by little fading
bunches of clover and roses and Canterbury bells.

And then Phyllis had an idea. She beckoned mysteriously to the others
and drew them into the back yard, and there, in a concealed spot,
between the pump and the water-butt, she said:--

"You remember Perks promising me the very first strawberries out of his
own garden?" Perks, you will recollect, was the Porter. "Well, I should
think they're ripe now. Let's go down and see."

Mother had been down as she had promised to tell the Station Master the
story of