belts of trees, and was much frequented on that account
by gipsies and other lawless people. Polly, who went last over the moor,
carried the greater part of the way on Sultan's friendly back, had very
little idea how far the distance was. It was September now, but the sun
shone on the heather and fern with great power, and as Polly had no hat
on her head, having refused to take Maggie's from her; she was glad to
take shelter under friendly trees whenever they came across her path.

At first the little girls walked very quickly, for they were afraid of
being overtaken and brought back; but after a time their steps grew
slow, their movement decidedly languid, and Maggie at least began to
feel that berries from the trees and water from the spring, particularly
when neither was to be found anywhere, was by no means a substantial or
agreeable diet to dwell upon.

"I don't think I like being a hermit," she began. "I don't know nought
what it means, but I fancy it must be very thinning and running down to
the constitootion."

Polly looked at her, and burst out laughing.

"It is," she said, "that's what the life was meant for, to subdue the
flesh in all possible ways; you'll get as thin as a whipping-post, Mag."

"I don't like it," retorted Maggie. "Maybe we'd best be returning home,
now, Miss Polly."

Polly's eyes flashed. She caught Maggie by the shoulder.

"You are a mean girl," she said. "You got me into this scrape, and now
you mean to desert me. I was sitting quietly in my room, reading through
the M's in Webster's Dictionary, and you came and asked me to run away;
it was your doing, Maggie, you know that."

"Yes, miss! yes, Miss!"

Maggie began to sob. "But I never, never thought it meant berries and
spring-water; no, that I didn't. Oh, I be so hungry!"

At this moment all angry recriminations were frozen on the lips of both
little girls, for rising suddenly, almost as it seemed from the ground
at their feet, appeared a gaunt woman of gigantic make.

"Maybe you'll be hungrier," she said in a menacing voice. "What
business have you to go through Deadman's Copse without leave?"

Maggie was much too alarmed to make any reply, but Polly, after a moment
or two of startled silence, came boldly to the rescue.

"Who are you?" she said. "Maggie and I know nothing of Deadman's Copse;
this is a wood, and we are going through it; we have got business on the
other side of Peg-Top-Moor."

"That's as it may be," replie