ad down the
lane. "There's a man a-cummin yonder's always a-going to Lunnon," said
he. Visions of a companion on our tramp--also perhaps in search of
adventures--made me look briskly round. "Him with the pipe, as b'longs
to the barge," the boy exclaimed.

It was indeed Mr. Rowe come to look for us, and we had to try and seem
glad to see him, and to go on board once more.

Towards evening the canal banks became dotted with fishers of all ages
and degrees, fishing very patiently, though they did not seem to catch
much.

Soon after dark we reached the town of Pyebridge.

When the barge lay-to for the night, and the driver was taking the
horse away to the stable, Mr. Rowe confronted us, in his firmest
manner, with the question, "And where are you going to sleep, young
gentlemen?"

"Where are _you_ going to sleep, Mr. Rowe?" said I, after a thoughtful
pause.

"_I_ sleeps below, but the captain's cabin is guv up to no one--unless
it be the Queen," replied the barge-master, humorously but decidedly.

"We should like to sleep on deck," said I.

But Mr. Rowe would not hear of it, on account of various dreadful
diseases which he assured us would be contracted by sleeping "in the
damps of the water," "the dews of the _h_air," and "the rays of the
moon."

"There's a hotel--" he began; but I said at once, "We couldn't afford
a hotel, but if you know of any very cheap place we should be much
obliged."

Mr. Rowe took off his hat and took out his handkerchief, though it was
no longer hot. Having cleared his brain, he said he "would see," and
he finally led us along one of the pebbled streets of Pyebridge to a
small house with a small shop-window for the sale of vegetables, and
with a card announcing that there were beds to let. A very little old
woman got up from behind a very big old geranium in the window as we
entered, and with her Mr. Rowe made our arrangements for the night. We
got a clean bed, and had a mug of milk and a slice of bread and
treacle apiece for breakfast the next morning, and I paid two
shillings. As I thanked the old lady and bade her good day, she called
to me to hold out my hat, which she filled with cherries, and then
stood at the door and watched us out of sight.

There was a railway station in Pyebridge, and we might easily have
escaped from Mr. Rowe, and gone by train to London. But besides the
fact that our funds were becoming low, the water had a new attraction
for us. We had left the canal