urn out that this
brave act of his, in saving the life of the granddaughter of a
travelling showman, will not be without its reward."

"Is she all right now?" James asked abruptly, anxious to change the
conversation.

"Yes. She soon came to herself, and wanted to tell me all about it; but
I would not let her talk, and in a few minutes she dropped off to
sleep, and there I left her. The women tell me she will probably sleep
till morning, and will then be as well as ever. And now I must go and
look after my box, or the boys will be pulling it to pieces."

It was, however, untouched, for in passing the sergeant had told the
little crowd that, if they left it alone, he would, on his return, let
all see without payment; and during the rest of the afternoon he was
fully occupied with successive audiences, being obliged to make his
lectures brief, in order that all might have their turn.

After the sergeant had left, James took his hat and went for a long
walk in the country, in order to escape the congratulations of the
other boys. The next day little Agnes was perfectly well, and appeared
with her grandfather in the seat, far back in the church, which he
always occupied on the Sundays he spent at Sidmouth. On these occasions
she was always neatly and prettily dressed, and, indeed, some of the
good women of the place, comparing the graceful little thing with their
own children, had not been backward in their criticisms on the folly of
the old showman, in dressing his child out in clothes fit for a lady.

Chapter 2: The Showman's Grandchild.

Three months later the showman again appeared at Sidmouth, but did not
set up his box as usual. Leaving it at his lodging, he went at once
with his grandchild to Mrs. Walsham's.

"I have come, madam," he said after the first inquiries about the child
had been answered, "on a particular business. It will seem a strange
thing to you for a man like me to ask, but things are not quite as they
seem, though I can't explain it now. But I am beating about the bush,
and not getting any nearer. I have come to ask, madam, whether you
would take charge of the child for two years. Of course I am ready to
pay anything that you may think proper."

"But I don't take boarders," Mrs. Walsham said, much surprised at the
proposition. "I only take girls who come in the morning and go away in
the afternoon. Besides, they are all a good many years older than your
grandchild. None of the girls who