"No hurry," said Mr. Trelawny's big voice just in her ear. "We will go back to my house first, and see what all this means." And then Esther felt herself lifted bodily in those great, strong arms, and carried baby-fashion up the steep pathway towards the house on the top of the crag. "O Mr. Trelawny, I'm too heavy to be carried!" she cried. "You're not half as heavy as you should be. I must know about that too. We've got you a prisoner between us, my little maid, and we shall not let you go till we've----" Mr. Trelawny stopped suddenly, because Mr. Earle had begun to speak to him in the strange language Esther had heard him use upon another occasion. She shut her eyes tightly, and tried to be brave; but if only she might have gone home by herself! The Crag was a very terrible place to come to. Even the boys seemed to have disappeared. There was no sign of them about the great, quiet house. Mr. Trelawny carried her into the drawing-room, which did not look as though it were often used, though it was bright and sunny; and he laid her down upon a wide sofa, and took a chair close to her. Mr. Earle stood a little way off, looking out of the window. If Esther had had the courage to look into the face above her, she would have seen that it was full of a very kindly concern and interest, but she dared not raise her eyes. She felt like a prisoner awaiting sentence, and only wondered whether she would ever be free to run home again. "Now tell me, child," said Mr. Trelawny's big voice, "what is the matter with my little friend?" "Nothing, thank you, sir." "Can't you call me Uncle Robert, like that pair of urchins, who are no kith or kin of mine, though you are? Esther, I was very fond of your father. Won't you try to be a little fond of me? I will be your friend, if you will let me." She looked up at him then, and her heart beat fast. It was all so very strange and unexpected. She did not know what to say; but she put out her hand and laid it on his, and he smiled and patted it, and said,-- "There, that is better. Now tell me about these headaches of yours. We ought to find a cure for them. Has Mr. Earle been working you too hard?" Esther felt a thrill run through her again. How was it he knew anything about her headaches? She had not even told her mother, and it never occurred to her that the boys could have spoken the word. Yet, to be sure, once or twice lately she had not cared to join their games because her head ached so badly towards evening. But it was not the lessons. They must not think that. Her lessons were the great pleasure of her life. "Oh no, no!" she answered earnestly; "indeed it is not that. Please, don't stop the lessons. I do like them so very much." Mr. Earle came forward then, smiling and saying,-- "I don't want to lose my pupil either, but health comes before pleasure--even before learning."