'Very good idea of yours, Chops; but you couldn't put all that in a telegram. Besides, Captain Oak isn't dead, so Mrs Oak isn't a relict, let alone a derelict. I'll write the telegram, Chops, this very night.' * * * * * The lights of London were beginning to spring up here and there in windows as the train drew into the gloom of King's Cross, and Lotty seized her little bag and fiddle-case, got out, locked her door, and leapt off the truck and almost into the arms of kindly Mrs Oak and the stationmaster himself. After the first greetings, the guard came hurrying up. 'We've got a little stowaway here, guard,' said the man with the gold band, laughing. 'Travelled all the way from Scotland in her own caravan!' 'Well, well, well! And a pretty little stowaway she is. 'Pon my soul, if I'd known she was with me, stationmaster, I would have been sorely tempted to neglect my duty, and travelled with her in the same carriage.' 'Thanks, dear,' he said when Lotty gave up her ticket. 'I suppose,' said the little gipsy, 'I was infringing orders.' 'I don't know really if we have a bylaw that would cover this case; but, depend upon it, that if your friend Mrs Oak hadn't come I should have made you a prisoner, and taken you home to my wife, if only for the sake of seeing a little more of so interesting and pretty a stowaway.' For verily, verily, reader, even a stationmaster is 'gallantly personified' where beauty is concerned. Lotty did think it so kind and thoughtful of Chops to send that telegram, and it certainly was a most pleasant surprise to her. She much needed rest, too, and so she gladly went home that night with Mrs Oak to Capstan Cottage, and was glad to meet her husband James once more. He was on shore for just a fortnight, then bound for the West Indies in a better ship than ever he had commanded before. But, tired though she was, Lotty did not go to bed until she had written both to Crona and to Chops himself. And next day Mrs Oak went with Lotty all the way to Highgate Heath. CHAPTER XXVI. THAT CROOKED SIXPENCE. Biffins Lee had really so much to do of a forenoon about the Queerest Show on Earth that unless some particular rehearsal was on he did not trouble much to look after any of his people, each one of whom had duties to perform. But about two o'clock in the afternoon of the day following that on which poor Lotty had fled, Mary sought audience of the boss. 'Lotty never returned, sir. She was to stay all night with Crona, and I fully expected her back to breakfast. I am very anxious.' So was Biffins now. 'Start Chops off at once,' he cried 'to Crona's house to make inquiries.' Chops was glad of the excuse, and so was Wallace; for the honest dog, at all events, made sure of finding the loved one. When Chops returned he went directly to Lee's tent. 'Lotty be gone, sir--clean gone hoff.' 'Eh? What! are you mad, boy?' 'W'ich I don't think so, Mr Biffins Lee, an' sir to you.'