ered and looked up into his
face. What a white face was that, and with what a look did he meet
hers!

She took him to her own chamber, and, still holding him by the hand as
if she feared to lose him for an instant, gathered together the little
stock she had, and hung her basket on her arm. The old man took his
wallet from her hands and strapped it on his shoulders--his staff,
too, she had brought away--and then she led him forth.

Through the strait streets, and narrow crooked outskirts, their
trembling feet passed quickly. Up the steep hill too, crowned by the
old grey castle, they toiled with rapid steps, and had not once looked
behind.

But as they drew nearer the ruined walls, the moon rose in all her
gentle glory, and, from their venerable age, garlanded with ivy, moss,
and waving grass, the child looked back upon the sleeping town, deep in
the valley's shade: and on the far-off river with its winding track of
light: and on the distant hills; and as she did so, she clasped the
hand she held, less firmly, and bursting into tears, fell upon the old
man's neck.

CHAPTER 43

Her momentary weakness past, the child again summoned the resolution
which had until now sustained her, and, endeavouring to keep steadily
in her view the one idea that they were flying from disgrace and crime,
and that her grandfather's preservation must depend solely on her
firmness, unaided by one word of advice or any helping hand, urged him
onward and looked back no more.

While he, subdued and abashed, seemed to crouch before her, and to
shrink and cower down, as if in the presence of some superior creature,
the child herself was sensible of a new feeling within her, which
elevated her nature, and inspired her with an energy and confidence she
had never known. There was no divided responsibility now; the whole
burden of their two lives had fallen upon her, and henceforth she must
think and act for both. 'I have saved him,' she thought. 'In all
dangers and distresses, I will remember that.'

At any other time, the recollection of having deserted the friend who
had shown them so much homely kindness, without a word of
justification--the thought that they were guilty, in appearance, of
treachery and ingratitude--even the having parted from the two
sisters--would have filled her with sorrow and regret. But now, all
other considerations were lost in the new uncertainties and anxieties
of their wild and wandering life; and th