"Please, God, give me back little Pearl. Please, God, save little Pearl. I don't want anything else; I don't even want father to forgive me, if You will save little Pearl." Most earnest prayers bring a sense of comfort, and Polly did not feel quite so lonely when she stood again on her feet, with the bracken and the fern all round her. She tried hard now to collect her thoughts; she made a valiant effort to feel calm and reasonable. "I can do nothing if I get so excited," she said to herself. "I must just fight with my anxious spirit. My heart must stay quiet, for my brain has got to work now. Let me see! where has Flower taken baby? Father and Nell and the others are all searching the South moor, so I will go on to Peg-Top. I will walk slowly, and I will look behind every clump of trees, and I will call Flower's name now and then; for I am sure, I am quite, quite sure that, however dreadful her passion may have been, if Flower is the least like me, she will be dreadfully sorry by now--dreadfully sorry and dreadfully frightened--so if she hears me calling she will be sure to answer. Oh, dear! oh, dear! here is my heart speaking again, and my head is in a whirl, and the noises are coming back into my ears. Oh! how fearfully I hate Flower! How could she, how could she have taken our darling little baby away? And yet--and yet I think I'd forgive Flower; I think I'd try to love her; I think I'd even tell her that I was the one who had done most wrong; I think I'd even go on my knees and beg Flower's pardon, if only I could hold baby to my heart again!" By this time Polly was crying bitterly. These tears did the poor child good, relieving the pressure on her brain, and enabling her to think calmly and coherently. While this tempest of grief, however, effected these good results, it certainly did not improve her powers of observation; the fast-flowing tears blinded her eyes, and she stumbled along, completely forgetting the dangerous and uneven character of the ground over which she walked. It was now growing dusk, and the dim light also added to poor Polly's dangers. Peg-Top Moor had many tracks leading in all directions. Polly knew several of these, and where they led, but she had now left all the beaten paths, and the consequence was that she presently found herself uttering a sharp and frightened cry, and discovered that she had fallen down a fairly steep descent. She was slightly stunned by her fall, and for a moment or two did not attempt to move. Then a dull pain in her ankle caused her to put her hand to it, and to struggle giddily to a sitting position. "I'll be able to stand in a minute," she said to herself; and she pressed her hand to her forehead, and struggled bravely against the surging, waving sounds which had returned to her head. "I can't sit here!" she murmured; and she tried to get to her feet.