That was all. And if Lotty had really told a little white fib, and she feared she had, she was much concerned about it. She was very silent all the way through the forest, and permitted Chops to lead her most of the way. But just as they came in sight of Crona's cottage Chops stopped. 'Miss Lotty,' he said, 'which we've been good friends, hasn't us?' 'That we have, dear old Chops.' 'Well, ye wouldn't like to see me angry, just real angry, would ye?' 'Oh no, Chops.' Then he popped a little paper-parcel into her bag. 'I don't want that,' he said. 'I saved it up for a rainy day; and, oh Lotty, the rainy day has come!' Well, so far as the poor lad's face was concerned, it had, for Chops was crying. CHAPTER XXV. 'WE'VE GOT A LITTLE STOWAWAY HERE, GUARD.' It was midnight drear, and Lotty was all alone in the dark of the caravan saloon. She dared not light a lamp or candle, so she was feeling very frightened and very much excited. There was much clanking of big chains and shouting of porters, and she knew the truck in which the 'Gipsy Queen' lay was being attached to the train that was to bear her far away from the camp which had been her home so long. Wallace reluctantly had been left at poor Crona's cottage till Chops returned. The good station-porter George had sat up in the saloon with Lotty till he dared not sit a moment longer, then, telling her to lock her door and say her prayers, he said, 'Good-bye, darling, and God himsel' be wi' ye!' and so took his departure. But presently the _puff-puff-puff_ of the starting train resolved itself into a steady roar, and she knew she was off and away. But she was tired and sleepy as well as very heavy-hearted and sad, so she flashed her light a little and found a big plaid to cover her; and, arranging the pillows, she lay down on the sofa to think. With that plaid--a good Gordon tartan it was--around her she did not feel half so lonely. It was just as if its owner were sitting somewhere near to her in the saloon. She said, 'Good-night, Chops,' and Good-night, Wallace,' and 'Good-night, Mr Blake.' This, of course, was merely make-believe. In three minutes more she was as sound asleep as ever she had been in her life before, and it was quite daylight before she awakened. She looked her little watch--a present from Crona herself--and found it was nine o'clock, and past. She got up now, and, going away back into the pantry, permitted water to flow into the basin and had a delightfully cool wash. Then she felt hungry, and had a nice breakfast--a cold boiled egg, nice scones and butter, and a glass of milk. After breakfast she put her hand into her bag to get the chocolates, and big, luscious ones they were. She found Chops's little parcel. It was rolled in a great many pieces of newspaper and tied ever so many times with pieces of wool; but at last it revealed two gold sovereigns, three half-crowns, and ever so many threepenny bits.