the boys did not come across either little grace lee or the sordellos when they visited the market square in the afternoon; they did not stay there long, for tom soon realised that the bustle and confusion attending the arrival and fixing of the shows had a bewildering effect on his companion. after bounce had fought twice, and tim had brought trouble upon himself and his master by pouncing on a cat, which belonged to a showman who had a great gift for strong language, and peter had been nearly trampled upon by a van-horse, they turned their backs on the busy scene, and, before long, reached the country.
"where are we going?" asked peter by and by. he had dropped tom's arm which he had been holding, and now, calling bounce to him, put the dog on the leash. "i'd better lead him," he said, "or he may get away hunting in the woods again."
"we're on the road to hatwell green," tom informed him; "let us go on and see if there are any gipsies encamped on the green; i should think some will come for the fair."
"oh, yes! i'm afraid you left the market square on my account, tom?"
"oh, never mind that! if i had known there would be such a crowd i wouldn't have taken you there. it wasn't a place for the dogs either; there were so many other dogs about, and then that cat!"
"the dogs and i have spoilt your afternoon!"
"oh, no, you have not! when i saw how you were getting pushed about, i knew we had made a mistake in going to the square; but—why, how grave you are looking! you surely don't think i was selfish enough to want to stay?"
"no, i don't think that! you're not a bit selfish. you're just the opposite! and you're very, very kind! if you weren't you wouldn't be so patient with me."
"nonsense!" cried tom, laughing, and colouring at this frank praise. "what a chap you are, peter! you talk in such a serious, old-fashioned way sometimes—that's because you don't go to school and knock about with other boys, i expect."
"i dare say," agreed peter. "nellie and your mother must be arriving at broadstairs about now, mustn't they?" he asked a moment later.
"yes. oh, peter, i do hope nellie will get quite, quite well at broadstairs! i know mother and father are really dreadfully anxious about her, though they don't say much. i've begun to miss her already. do you know that when i went home to dinner i quite forgot, for a minute, when i opened the front door, that she wasn't somewhere about; i nearly shouted out 'nellie!'—meaning, of course, to tell her all about that poor little girl, grace lee. oh, by the way, i've been thinking! you heard max sordello say that grace's father was a gipsy, didn't you? well, did it strike you that she might be related to moses lee?"
"no. do you think she can be? you asked max sordello if she had any relations, but he didn't seem to know of any."
"he mightn't. anyway, if we find the lees at hatwell green, i shall speak to them about grace."
but the lees' yellow and red caravan was not at hatwell green when they reached there, and the only living objects to be seen were an aged donkey and half-a-dozen geese. the boys threw themselves down on the ground in the shadow of a hedge to rest, whilst they continued their conversation.
"what do you mean to be when you're a man?" peter asked by and by.
tom sighed. "i'm afraid i shall have to be a clerk like father," he said, a distinct note of distaste in his voice.
"what would you like to be?"
"i can't make up my mind. when i was quite a little boy i wanted to be something grand—a knight-errant. don't laugh!"
peter was not laughing; on the contrary, he was very serious. "a knight-errant?" he said questioningly, his face full of interest.
"yes. mother used to tell me about knights-errant when i was a little chap. they were knights who travelled about in search of adventures, and they were always very brave men who were kind to people in trouble, and gentle with women and children, and they weren't afraid of anything. of course there aren't any knights-errant nowadays."
"what a pity!" exclaimed peter regretfully.
"yes, it's a great pity," he went on; "for you would have made a very good knight-errant."
"oh, i don't know about that!" tom replied modestly, though secretly flattered.
"oh, yes, you would!" peter persisted, "for you are very brave, you don't seem afraid of anything or any one, and you'd always be kind to people in trouble if you could. you'd give a lot, i know, to be able to help poor little grace lee, wouldn't you?"
"it makes me furious to think of that great fat mrs. sordello, with her ugly purple face, hitting her about and swearing at her!" cried tom. "of course i'd help her if i could!"
peter nodded. "yes," he said, "of course you would. but a great many people wouldn't bother about her at all. oh, i consider it was splendid of you to speak to max sordello in the way you did! 'don't you dare be rough with her!' you said, and you can't think how awfully stern your voice sounded."
"i felt so angry with the brute, peter; he'd got hold of the poor little thing's arm and was hurting it. the more i think of him the more i feel sure he told us lies this morning, and that grace spoke the truth."
"i told aunt harriet about her," said peter; "but she thought the sordellos must be very kind people to have adopted her, and that she must be a naughty little girl. what does your father think?"
"i haven't told him about her yet; at dinner-time we talked mostly of nellie—she's the apple of father's eye, you know."
"oh, i expect so! i wish i had a sister, tom."
"i dare say you do. it must be awfully dull for you, living alone with your father. what sort of a man is he? anything like my father, i wonder?"
"he's a good deal older than your father, i should say. no, i don't think he is in the least like mr. burford."
"he's very rich, isn't he? i heard father tell mother so; he said he was a partner in one of the biggest firms of shipowners in the world. it must be jolly to have a rich father—not that i'd change mine for a millionaire!"
there was a note of affectionate pride in tom's voice as he spoke; peter heard it, and his dark, rather grave countenance lit up with an understanding smile.
"i don't suppose either of us would like to change fathers," he replied in his quaint, old-fashioned way.
"peter," tom said, after a brief silence, "which would you rather be, rich and blind, or poor and able to see?"
"why, poor and able to see, of course," peter answered decidedly. he paused momentarily, then continued: "i shouldn't so much mind being blind if it wasn't for father—if he didn't trouble about it, i mean. i heard him tell some one once that he would make any sacrifice if by doing it he could give me my sight. i'm glad you're going to see my father, tom; you know he's coming to chilaton at the end of the month, and aunt harriet says she shall insist on his staying a few days at any rate."
"i shall like to see him," tom admitted frankly; "he's going to take you back with him, isn't he?"
"i believe so. he misses me, i expect—not that he sees a great deal of me when i'm at home, because he's away in the city all day, but we generally have a little while together in the evening. listen! what's that row?"
"i don't hear anything."
"i do. your ears are not as sharp as mine. it's far away, but it's coming nearer. i hear dogs barking, and men's voices shouting, and a cow bellowing."
"a cow bellowing?" echoed tom. he listened intently, then sprang to his feet.
"yes, i hear now," he said quickly; "there's something being driven along the road. we'd better get somewhere out of the way." he had no fear of cows or any kind of cattle himself, but he was anxious to put peter in a place of safety; so he hurried him across the green to a five-barred gate in the hedge. the gate was locked, but the blind boy climbed it easily, and dropped into the meadow on the other side, whilst tom held bounce, and tim dragged himself through the bars.
"i must lift bounce over," tom said; "he's too big to get between the bars like tim. steady, bounce!"
with some difficulty, for bounce was a good weight, he succeeded in lifting the dog over the gate, peter receiving him on the other side.
"quick, quick, tom!" cried peter nervously; "i believe there's a mad bull coming! listen how it's bellowing! oh, here you are! that's right! what a fearful noise! can you see what's going on?"
"yes! it's not a bull, but a cow, with two sheep-dogs and two drovers after it. how the drovers are yelling! oh, i say, what a shame! one of the dogs bit the cow on the leg then! oh! she's going for him with her horns! there, now, the other dog's bitten her! what are they trying to do? hi, you men, there, call back those dogs of yours and let that poor brute go on quietly, do you hear?"
the men heard, and one of them shouted something in reply which the boys did not catch.
"i hate to see cattle driven," tom said; "they get so badly treated, poor things. those drovers ought to be taken up for driving a cow as fast as that and letting their dogs worry her; it's dreadfully cruel of them. i wonder where they're taking her? she looked terribly wild. they'll never be able to drive her through the town, if that's their intention; but perhaps they mean to put her in a field somewhere on the road. i don't suppose she'd have hurt us, but it's as well to be on the safe side of the gate, isn't it?"
"yes, indeed," agreed peter, who was looking very concerned. "i hate to think of animals being served badly," he said; "do you think the dogs were injuring the cow, tom?"
"they seemed to be very rough with her, i thought. which way shall we go home, peter?"
"if we go through the woods and fields i shall have to lead bounce," peter answered, "but we'll go which way you like, of course."
"oh, bounce shan't have his walk spoilt!" tom said, good-naturedly. "we'll return by the road; then you can let him run."
five minutes later they had turned their backs on hatwell green, and were walking towards the town, the two dogs running on ahead. at the first turn in the road tom remarked that he saw a caravan, and added excitedly that it was a red and yellow one and might be the lees'.
"is it coming this way?" asked peter, eagerly.
"it's drawn up beside the hedge. oh, it is the lees'! i recognise the horse, and—yes, there's moses himself standing by it! oh, peter, listen! the cow is coming back. i understand now—the dogs were trying to turn her! how stupid of me not to think of that before!"
"is there anywhere we can go to get out of her way?" asked peter.
"i'm afraid not, unless you can climb the hedge. try—i'll help you!"
"you'd better look out for yourself, tom!"
"no, no! this way! come!"
the cow, still pursued by the drovers and the sheep-dogs, had rushed past the caravan. tom succeeded in dragging his companion part way up the hedge, and was hoping the infuriated animal would pass them by, when bounce and tim suddenly dashed to meet her, barking. she lowered her head to charge them, but, at that minute, peter slipped and fell into the hedgerow, thus drawing her attention to him. he did not himself realise to the full the danger of his position; but tom, of course, did, and took immediate action. tearing off his coat, he sprang into the road, and, as the cow was making for peter, flung it, with sure aim, over her face and horns.
