"Grandfather," she whispered, when they were alone for a moment, "these men think that we have secretly left our friends, and mean to have us sent back." The old man was very much frightened, and began to shake. After soothing him she said, "I shall find a time when we can steal away. When I do, mind you come with me, and do not stop or speak a word." So at the close of a long day, when the men were setting up the show in a suitable spot, Nell touched the old man’s arm, and turning with him fled along the nearest road. They never once stopped to look behind, and creeping under the brow of a bill at a quick pace, made for the open fields. *Chapter IV.* *THE VILLAGE SCHOOL.* It was not until they were quite tired out and could no longer keep up the pace at which they had fled from the race-ground that the old man and the child stopped to rest upon the borders of a little wood. Here, though the race-ground could not be seen, they could yet hear the noise of the distant shouts, the hum of the voices, and the beating of the drums. Some time passed before Nell could bring the trembling old man to a state of quiet. "We are quite safe now, and have nothing to fear indeed, dear grandfather," she said. After a while they rose up from the ground, and took the shady track which led them through the wood. Passing along it for a short distance they came to a lane, completely shaded by the trees on either hand which met together overhead. A broken finger-post told them that this lane led to a village three miles off, and thither they bent their steps. It was a very small place. The men and boys were playing at cricket on the green; and as the other folks were looking on, they wandered up and down, uncertain where to seek a humble lodging. There was but one old man in the little garden before his cottage, and him they were too timid to approach, for he was the schoolmaster, and had "School" written up over his window in black letters on a white board. He was a pale, simple-looking man, and sat smoking his pipe in the little porch before his cottage door. "Speak to him, dear," the old man whispered. "I am almost afraid to disturb him," said the child timidly. "He does not seem to see us. Perhaps if we wait a little he may look this way." The slight noise they made in raising the latch caught his ear. He looked at them kindly, but gently shook his head. Nell dropped a curtsy, and told him they were poor travellers, who sought a shelter for the night, for which they would gladly pay. The schoolmaster looked at her as she spoke, laid aside his pipe, and rose to his feet. "If you could direct us anywhere, sir," said the child, "we should take it very kindly." "You have been walking a long way," said the schoolmaster. "A long way, sir," the child replied. "You’re a young traveller, my child," he said, laying his hand gently on her head.—"Your grandchild, friend?"