the organ, sometimes in quick time, sometimes in
slow, but never leaving off for an instant. When the knives and forks
rattled very much, or any of his fellows got an unusually large piece of
fat, he accompanied the music with a short howl; but he immediately
checked it on his master looking around, and applied himself with
increased diligence to the Old Hundredth.

That night, from various conversations in which Codlin and Short took
pains to engage her, little Nell began to have misgivings concerning
their protestations of friendship, and to suspect their motives. These
misgivings made the child anxious and uneasy, as the party travelled on
towards the town where the races were to begin next day.

It was dark when they reached the town, and there all was tumult and
confusion. The streets were filled with throngs of people, the
church-bells rang out their noisy peals, and flags streamed from windows
and house-tops, while shrill flageolets and deafening drums added to
the uproar.

Through this delirious scene, the child, frightened and repelled by all
she saw, led on her bewildered charge, clinging close to her conductor,
and trembling lest she should be separated from him, and left to find
her way alone. Quickening their steps they made for the racecourse,
which was upon an open heath. There were many people here, none of the
best-favored or best clad, busily erecting tents, but the child felt it
an escape from the town, and drew her breath more freely. After a scanty
supper, she and the old man lay down to rest in a corner of a tent, and
slept, despite the busy preparations that were going on around them all
night long.

And now they had come to the time when they must beg their bread. Soon
after sunrise in the morning Nell stole out, and plucked a few wild
roses and such humble flowers, to make into little nosegays and offer to
the ladies in the carriages when the company arrived. Her thoughts were
not idle while she was thus employed. When she returned and was seated
beside the old man, tying her flowers together, while Codlin and Short
lay dozing in another corner, she said in a low voice:

"Grandfather, don't look at those I talk of, and don't seem as if I
spoke of anything but what I'm about. What was that you told me before
we left the old house?--that if they knew what we were going to do, they
would say that you were mad, and part us?"

The old man turned to her with an aspect of wild terror; but she ch