Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Family life -- Juvenile fiction; Grandparents -- Juvenile fiction
"And which way do you go now?" asked the gipsy, setting Pamela down as
she spoke, to the child's great satisfaction, though she had not liked
to say to Diana that she was really too big to be carried.
"Straight on for about half a mile," answered the boy; "then there's a
road to the right takes us straight to the canal. It's not light enough
yet for you to see, but there's a little house close to the towing path
over there, where the boats often stop the night when it's crowded in
the town. That's where they're to be."
"All right," said Diana. "I'll go with you to the turn, and then I must
get back as fast as I can."
"Let me carry the basket," said Tim. He had a bundle under his arm, but
it was very light, for his possessions were few.
"What's in the basket?" asked Duke.
"All I could get," said Diana. "Some bread and eggs, and some oranges I
bought last night. I thought you'd be glad of them maybe. And Tim, you
have the money safe?"
Tim nodded his head.
In a few minutes they reached the road he had spoken of. In silence poor
Diana kissed the three children and turned away, for she could not
speak. But Duke and Pamela burst into tears.
"Oh if you would but come with us," they said over and over again. But
Diana shook her head.
"You shouldn't cry, master and missy dear, to go to your own home. It
was a wicked shame to take you from it, but I hope God will forgive me
the little I had to do with it, for I've truly done my best to get you
safe back. And you'll ask the kind gentleman and lady to be good to poor
Tim, and put him in an honest way of life."
"Oh yes," sobbed the children. And then Diana kissed them again and
resolutely turned away. But Tim ran after her.
"You don't think Mick'll beat you?" he said anxiously.
"He shan't have the chance," she answered scornfully. "No, no, Tim, I'll
take care of myself. Be a good boy; getting away from us is the best
thing could come to you. And some day maybe I'll have news of you, and
you of me perhaps."
Tim hastened back to the children, but his merry face was sad and his
heart heavy.
A short time brought them to the edge of the canal, and there sure
enough a boat was moored. There was no one moving about the little house
Tim had pointed out, but on board the canal boat two figures were to be
seen--or rather three, for they were those of a young man and a younger
woman with a baby in her arms; and in answer to a whistle from Tim the
man came forward and called out cheerfully, "Good morning; is it all
right?"
"All right," called back Tim, and then he turned to the children.
"We're going in this boat, master and missy. See, won't it be fine fun,
sailing away along the canal?"
Pamela seemed a little frightened.
"You're sure he won't take us to that naughty man?" she said, holding
Tim's hand tight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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