quiet, listening
to all that was being said. But presently they grew tired of that
subject, and turned their attention to the country through which they were
hurrying, and the quaint little stations at which they stopped, where the
one porter shouted such odd names in so funny a voice that they could not
help laughing; then on they went again through rich yellow cornfields,
past streams where men were fishing, and then they saw the high hills in
the distance, standing so solitary on the great browny-grey moor.

It was hard to picture a big, gloomy prison anywhere near such a lovely
land, or hundreds of sinful, unhappy men shut in behind high grey walls,
seeing nothing of the beauty about them.

"Mother, mother, there's Row Tor, and there's Brown Willy, and there--"

"And here is our station," said Mrs. Anketell, smiling, getting up to
collect baskets and parcels, "and there is Farmer Minards himself with his
car and a cart for the luggage." Then out they got, the only passengers
for that little station, while the people in the train stared at them,
enviously the children thought, and the people on the platform looked with
curiosity and interest at them, and their big pile of luggage.
Then Stella and Michael and Mrs. Anketell were shown in to the funny
little car, which was called the 'pill-box,' but Paul asked if he might
ride up in the front of the cart on which the luggage was piled, and was
allowed to, and a few minutes later they started off in procession down
the road on their way to Moor Farm.

The boy who drove the cart was shy at first, and sat very stolid and stiff
beside Paul apparently absorbed in guiding his horse, but Paul was not
troubled with shyness, or anything else but curiosity, and after he had
looked at the horse and cart, and everything about him, his tongue refused
to be silent any longer, and a stream of questions was poured into the shy
boy's ears. As they were nearly all questions he could answer he did not
mind, and replied very patiently, and soon grew more at ease, especially
as some of Paul's questions made him laugh too, and feel how much more he
knew than 'the young master,' which is always a comfortable feeling.

"And that is Cawsand Beacon, isn't it?" said Paul at last, pointing to a
big, big hill, in the near distance. He spoke in an off-hand casual sort
of way, and was rather proud of his knowledge until the boy laughed.

"No, sir, that there is Crockern Tor. Cawsan' Baycon