He dragged himself on knees and elbows to her side and began to pat her on the back, with some energy: "There, there," he said; "don't cry, there's a dear. Here, I've got a handkerchief, as it happens," for Charling was feeling blindly and vainly among the coloured chalks. He thrust the dingy handkerchief into her hands, and she dried her eyes, still sobbing. "That's the style," said he. "Look here, we're like people in a book. Two travellers in misfortune meet upon a wild moor and exchange narratives. Come, tell me what's up?" "You tell first," said Charling, rubbing her eyes very hard; "but swear eternal friendship before you begin, then we can't tell each other's secrets to the enemy." He looked at her with a nascent approval. She understood how to play, then, this forlorn child in the torn white frock. He took her hand and said solemnly-- "I swear." "Your name," she interrupted. "I, N or M, swear, you know." "Oh, yes. Well, I, Harry Basingstoke, swear to you--" "Charling," she interpolated; "the other names don't matter. I've got six of them." "That we will support--no, maintain--eternal friendship." "And I, Charling, swear the same to you, Harry." "Why do they call you Charling?" "Oh! because my name's Charlotte, and mother used to sing a song about Charlie being her darling, and I was her darling, only I couldn't speak properly then; and I got it mixed up into Charling, father says. But let's go on. Tell me your sad history, poor fellow-wanderer." "My father was a king," said Harry gravely; but Charling turned such sad eyes on him that he stopped. "Won't you tell me the real true truth?" she said. "I will you." "Well," said he, "the real true truth is, Charling, I've run away from home, and I'm going to sea." Charling clapped her hands. "Oh! so have I! So am I! Let me come with you. Would they take a cabin-girl on the ship where you're going to, do you think? And why did you run away? Did they beat you and starve you at home? Or have you a cruel stepmother, or stepfather, or something?" "No," said he grimly; "I haven't any step-relations, and I'm jolly well not going to have any, either. I ran away because I didn't choose to have a strange chap set over me, and that's all I am going to tell you. But about you? How far have you come to-day?" "About ninety miles, I should think," said Charling; "at least, my legs feel exactly like that." "And what made you do such a silly thing?" he said, smiling at her, and she thought his blue eyes looked quite different now, so that she did not mind his calling her silly. "You know, it's no good girls running away; they always get caught, and then they put them into convents or something." She slipped her hand confidingly under his arm, and put her head against the sleeve of his Norfolk jacket. "Not girls with eternal friends, they don't," she said. "You'll take care of me now? You won't let them catch me?" "Tell me why you did it, then." Charling told him at some length.