ok,
sister, there's lots and lots of carts and peoples. And over there do
you see there's rows of little shops--that must be the fair."

He seemed rather excited, but Pamela, after one peep, would not look any
more.

"No, no, bruvver," she said. "I am frightened. If it is the fair, that
man will be coming that Diana told us about, and perhaps he'll take us
before Diana and Tim can help us to run away. I'm too frightened."

But Duke had managed to get the window unhooked, and was now on tiptoe,
stretching out his head as far as it would go.

"Oh sister," he exclaimed, drawing it in again, "you _should_ see. It's
such a big place, and such lots and lots of peoples, and such a noise.
Oh do climb up here, sister, and look out."

But Pamela still cowered down in her corner. Suddenly they heard the
well-known sound of the key in the door,--for when the children were
alone in the van they were always locked in,--and turning to look, they
saw Diana. She brought with her a bowl of milk and some bread, which the
children were very glad of, as they had eaten so little at dinner, and
she said nothing till they had finished it.

"Are you still sleepy?" she said then. "Would you like to go to bed or
to come out a little with me?"

"Oh, to go out a little," said Duke; but Pamela crept up close to Diana.

"I don't want to go out," she said. "I'm frightened. But I don't want to
stay here alone for fear that man should come. Can't you help us to run
away now, before he comes? Oh please do, dear Diana."

Diana soothed her very kindly.

"Don't be frightened, missy dear," she said. "He won't be coming just
yet. I think you'd better come out a little with me. You'll sleep better
for it."

"And you won't take us to that man?" said Pamela half suspiciously.

Diana looked at her reproachfully.

"Missy, missy dear, would I do such a thing?"

"Sister, you know she wouldn't," said Duke.

"Then I'll come," said Pamela, and in another minute the two children,
each with a hand of the gipsy girl, were threading their way through the
lanes of vans and carts, half-completed booths, tethered horses and
donkeys, men, women, and children of all kinds, which were assembled on
the outskirts of Crookford in preparation for the great fair. Nobody
noticed them much, though one or two gipsies loitering about, not of her
own party, nodded at Diana as she passed as an old acquaintance, with
some more or less rough joke or word of greeting. And th