her lap, his hands were
folded as she bade him fold them when he said his evening prayer--a
simple petition which in all his wanderings the dwarf never forgot, and
of late years never omitted to repeat each night--in perfect faith and
childlike confidence that his words would be heard, his requests
granted:--

"I lay my body down to sleep,
And pray that God my soul will keep;
And if I die before I wake,
I pray that God my soul will take. Amen."

For a while all was still within the calf-house. Darby and Joan slept
the profound, dreamless sleep of tired childhood; the dwarf was buried
in an oblivion which was as much the stupor of weakness as the
blissfulness of sleep. About an hour he remained sunk in sweet
forgetfulness of present danger and future difficulties. Then his big
head began to bob uneasily up and down, from one side to another, until
it fell upon his shoulder with a sudden jerk which only partially
aroused him. He opened his eyes with an effort. Where was he, and where
was his mother? Surely that was not her voice which broke in so coarsely
through the closed door and the hole in the wall? That harsh laugh never
burst from her mouth; those ugly words never soiled her pure lips! All
at once Bambo started upright, thoroughly awake and trembling with
terror. He remembered everything, and for a minute his brave, loving
heart died within him as he recognized the voices in the court outside
of Thieving Joe and his wife Moll, wrangling with the sleepy landlord
for admittance at that unseemly hour to the shelter and comfort of the
Traveller's Delight.

The dwarf put his ear to a chink in the door and listened intently. He
could not make out what they said, however, but that they were there in
hot pursuit of himself and the children Bambo felt not an atom of doubt.
Some one must have taken note of the runaways, given Joe and Moll
warning, and here they were already on their trail. They would question
the landlord; next, search every corner and cranny about the inn for the
fugitives. At any moment their hiding-place might be discovered.

CHAPTER XIII.

A TERRIBLE FRIGHT.

"No will-o'-the-wisp mislight thee,
No snake or slowworm bite thee,
But on, on thy way,
Not making a stay,
Since ghost there's none to affright thee.

"Let not the dark thee cumber;
What though the moon does slumber?
The stars of the night
Will lend thee their li