He awoke with a start The house was still as death. The moon hung snared in a tree; his window was in shadow. Between the long intervals of silence he heard the sound of stifled sobbing. “Who are you? What is it?” he whispered. In the doorway he made out a blur of whiteness. Slipping from his bed, he stole towards it. Stooping, he touched it. “You!” Her arms flew up and tugged at him passionately. Her tears were on his cheeks. For the first time she kissed him. “You’re cold, darling little girl.” And then for the first time he kissed her mouth. “Oh, I don’t want you to think that I’m bad. I’m not bad, Teddy. And I like you to be King Arthur or Sir Launcelot, or--or anybody.” He fetched his counterpane and wrapt it round her, coaxing, her just inside the doorway so that they might not be heard. Together, crouched against the wall, with their arms about each other’s necks, they huddled in the darkness. “I didn’t mind--not really.” Since she had kissed him, he was fully persuaded of the untruth himself. “I shouldn’t really mind whatever you called me. Little Desire, I thought you never cried. You do believe me, don’t you?” “Oh, I do want my mother so,” she whispered, drawing deep sobs between her words. “If you was to help me to escape to your mother, I’m sure we could find her. And then, you could come and stay with us, and I could come and stay with you. And we should be always and always together.” In defiance of Hal, he promised to help her at the first opportunity. To-morrow? Perhaps. He saw her safely back to her room, kissing her in the darkness on the threshold. But to-morrow held its own surprise. CHAPTER XVIII--ESCAPING Farmer Joseph’s place was empty at breakfast next morning. It was market-day, and he had made an early start for town. Teddy pressed Desire’s foot beneath the table; when Mrs. Sarie wasn’t looking, he nodded towards the window and his lips formed the word, “To-day.” The opportunity had come sooner than he had expected. It was quite necessary that, when he helped her to escape, Fanner Joseph’s back should be turned. The old man with’ the merry screwed-up eyes and the white horse-collar of whiskers round his neck, was always watching. He seemed to know by instinct every time that they wandered out of sight of the farmhouse. Sooner or later, as they sat in a field reading or telling stories, his face would peer above the hedge. In the passage he caught Desire’s hand. “Run upstairs. Get your hat and jacket.--No, wait Mrs. Sarie might see them. Drop them out of the window to me in the garden.” He felt immensely excited. If he could get her to the station undetected, they would travel up to London. When it was evening he would smuggle her past Orchid Lodge, and then---- He supposed she would spend the night at his father’s, and all the other days and nights till her mother was found. But why had Hal stolen her? “Here, catch.”