"Why did you lock us in?" asked Humpty defiantly.

"I believe they think as 'ow we locked 'em in for the purpose," laughed the woman, and then she explained to them what had happened, how they always kept this caravan locked, for they did not use it for sleeping or living in, but filled it with baskets and tins, which they sold as they travelled through the villages. She told the twins, too, that three policemen were out searching for them everywhere, and had come to make inquiries of her husband, and of the man who sold the tickets, but they could tell them nothing. And in their turn the twins had to explain how it was that they had found their way into the caravan.

[Sidenote: An Early Breakfast]

It was just three o'clock now, and the men were all at work, for by four o'clock they must be on the way to the next town, where they were "billed" to give a performance that very afternoon.

"And now," said the woman, "you must 'ave a bite of breakfast, and then Bill shall tike you 'ome. What'll your ma and pa say when they see you?

they'll be mighty pleased, I guess."

The twins had never been up so early in the morning before. They felt ill and stiff all over from sleeping on the hard floor, and they were very hungry, and cold too, for the morning air seemed chill and biting.

The women had made a fire of sticks, and a great black kettle was hanging over it. The water was boiling and bubbling.

Soon the men left their work and came to join in the meal. They all sat round the fire on the wet gra.s.s, and shared the large, thick mugs of tea and sugar, and stared at the little strangers.

All the children were up, too, and rubbed their eyes and tried hard not to look sleepy, but the little ones were cross and peevish. Each child had a large slice of bread, and a piece of cold pork, and even the little, sore-eyed baby held a crust of bread and a piece of pork in his hand, which he tried to stuff into his mouth.

The twins, because they were the guests, were given each a hard-boiled egg. Dumpty was getting over her shyness now, and tried to behave as mummie does when she is out to tea. "Eggs are very dear now," she announced gravely, during a lull in the conversation; "how much do you pay for yours?" How the men and women laughed! It seemed as if Bill would never stop chuckling, and repeating to himself, "Pay for our eggs!

That's a good un"; and every time that he said "Pay for our eggs!" he gave his leg a loud slap with his hand. When breakfast was over--and you may be sure that the twins ate a good one, although they did not much like the strong tea, without any milk--the woman said it was time for them to be starting home.

"Please," begged Dumpty, summoning all her courage--"please, may the piebald pony take us?" and in a few minutes Bill drove it up, harnessed to an old rickety cart, and the two children were packed in.

Just as they were starting Dumpty said, with a sigh, to the kind gipsy woman, "Thank you very, very much, and will you, please, tell the clown how sorry I am that I have not seen him to speak to?"

"'Ere I am, young mon--'ere I am!"

It was Bill who spoke. The twins could not believe their ears.

"Are you the clown?" said Dumpty in an awestruck voice; "are you really and truly the clown?"

Bill jerked the reins, and the piebald pony set off at a weary trot.

"Yes, missie, I am the clown," he said.

"Where's your nose?" asked Humpty suspiciously.

"One's on my face--t'other's in the dressing-up box," answered the man, with a shout of laughter.

"Then you're not Poor Jane's brother?" said Dumpty.

"Don't know nuffun about Poor Jine--we've got only one Jine here, and that's the monkey, and she ain't my sister, leastways it's to be hoped as she in't."

But although it was disappointing to find that the clever clown was only Bill all the time, the twins enjoyed their drive home, for Bill told them many wonderful tales of his life in the ring, and of the animals which he had trained.

Soon they came to the village, which looked so strange and quiet by the early morning light, with the cottage-doors all shut, and the windows closed and the blinds drawn. Humpty jumped down to open the gate leading up the drive, and there on the doorstep were mummie and daddy, looking so white and ill, who had come out of the house at the sound of the wheels on the gravel to greet them.

[Sidenote: Home Again]

The twins were hurried indoors and taken up to the nursery, and Nan cried when she saw them and forgot to scold. From the window they watched mum and daddy thanking Bill, and giving him some money, and they waved "goodbye" to him, and he flourished his whip in return, gave another tug at the reins, and the old piebald pony cantered bravely down the drive, and they saw them no more.

The twins were not allowed to see their mother, for Nan said that she was feeling ill with a dreadful headache, and it was all on account of their "goings-on"; and after Nan had stopped crying, she began to scold, and was very cross all day.

That evening when the twins were in bed mummie came to tuck them up. But instead of saying "Good-night," and then going out as she generally did, she stayed for a long, long time and talked.

She told them that it was very wrong to have disobeyed nurse, who had told them to stay in the seats and not to go away.

"But," cried Humpty, "we had to try to rescue Poor Jane's brother!"

"Poor Jane's brother!" repeated mummie, looking puzzled. And then the twins explained.

Mummie sat silent for a long time.

"Remember, children," she said at last, "never do evil that good may come--I can't expect you to understand that--but I can tell you a little story."

"A story!" cried the twins. "Hooray!"

"Once upon a time a town was besieged. It was night, and only the sentinels on the walls were left on guard, and told to give the alarm by clanging a large bell, should the enemy force an attack. There was one sentinel who had never done this work before, and he was given the least important tower to guard. During the night a loud bell clanged out, and a soldier came running along the wall to speak to the new sentinel. 'Do come,' he said, 'we want as many helpers as we can get at once, and there will be plenty of fighting.' The young sentinel longed to go with him, and join the fight, but he remembered his duty in time.

"'I cannot leave this tower,' he said; 'I have had orders to stay and give the alarm should the enemy appear, and the town trusts me to do so.'

"'I believe that you are afraid,' said the soldier as he hurried away.

"And this was the hardest of all, and the sentinel longed to join in the fighting to show that he, too, was no coward, but could fight like a man.

"He stood there, listening to the noise in the distance, to the shouts of the enemy, and the screams of those who were struck down. And as he looked below the walls into the valley beyond he thought that he could distinguish men moving, and while he watched he saw a number of soldiers creeping up to the walls, and one man had even placed his foot on the steps that led up to his tower. Quick as thought, the sentinel seized the rope of the large bell that hung over his head and clanged it again and again.

"In a few minutes the troops were a.s.sembled, and, making their way down the steep steps, they charged at the enemy, and followed them into the valley.

"Late on the following evening the soldiers returned, but not all, for many were killed--and they brought back news of a great victory. The enemy was routed and the town saved. So you see, children," said mother gravely, "how much better it is to do what is right. If that young sentinel had left his post, even though it were to help the men in the other tower, the enemy would have climbed up those steps and got into the town. You must try to remember this always. You should have obeyed nurse, and remembered that she was trusting you to do what she had said.

It was a kind thought of yours to try to rescue Poor Jane's brother, but obedience to nurse should have come first."

[Sidenote: Jane's Delusion]

"But we forgot, mummie," said Humpty.

"What would have happened if the sentinel had forgotten that he was trusted to do his duty, and stay in the tower?"

Humpty was silent.

"And now," said mummie cheerfully, "we will forget all about the terrible fright you have given us, and you must try to remember what I have said. I want to know all about Poor Jane's brother," she continued, smiling; "is it some one you have been imagining about?"

"Oh, no!" cried the twins at once. And then they told her of the conversation which they had had with Poor Jane, and of what she had said about her brother.

"But Poor Jane has no brother," said mummie; "he died long ago. Jane's mind has never grown up. One day, when she was a girl, her mother took her to a circus at Woodstead, and when they came home, after it was over, they were told the sad news that Jane's brother had fallen from the top of a wagon of hay on to his head. He died a few hours later. But Jane could not understand death--she only knew that Harry had gone away from them, and she believed that the circus people had stolen him from the village and made him a clown. Ever since that sad day Jane has gone up and down the village to look for him, hoping that he will come back."

"And will Poor Jane never see him again?" asked Dumpty.

"Yes," answered mummie, with her sweetest smile--"yes, darlings, one day she may!"