Part 8 (1/2)

”I hear it on the leaves. I can't run. Let's sit down under a tree.”

”No, no!” exclaimed Susan, seizing his hand. ”Come on! It's blue sky overhead. I want to get home to Grandmother. I don't like it in the woods in the rain. Come on! Do hurry-Run!”

The tiny patch of blue sky upon which Susan had pinned her faith had been rapidly growing smaller. Now it was altogether out of sight. There was a sharp flash of lightning, a loud clap of thunder, and down came the rain like the bursting of a waterspout.

”Oh, run, Philly, run!” called Susan, darting to the side of the road.

”Come here with me under the trees.”

A flash of lightning and long roll of thunder came just at that moment, and put to flight all Phil's small stock of courage. He was frightened and tired, and he could endure no more. He dropped his pail of precious berries to the ground, he let fall his slippers, and, standing in the downpour, he lifted up his voice and wept.

”Mamma, Mamma!” wailed Phil. ”I want Mamma!”

Poor Susan was distracted. Her lip trembled and her eyes filled with tears, but she bravely ran out into the road again and caught Phil by the arm.

”Come, Philly, come,” entreated Susan.

But Phil, bewildered by the dazzling flashes of light and peals of thunder, was beside himself with fear. He jerked his arm away and ran screaming up the road, splas.h.i.+ng through puddles as he went.

”Oh, Philly! Oh, Grandfather! Oh, Grandfather!” wailed Susan. She felt that the end of the world had come.

But deliverance was at hand.

Out of the woods appeared a man and a boy. The man easily overtook Phil and lifted him in his arms.

”Don't be afraid, missy,” called he to Susan above Phil's screams. ”Come along with me.”

The boy had gathered up the scattered bundles, and he now grasped Susan's hand, and so, dripping with rain, the little party vanished into the shelter of the woods.

CHAPTER VI-THE GYPSIES

Susan sneezed twice, coughed, and looked about her.

She stood in a tent, round like a circus tent, and the air was heavy with smoke from a fire smouldering on the ground. There were no doors or windows in the tent, and but little light entered on this dark afternoon through a half-dozen rents in the roof.

But Susan made out in the gloom not only the man and boy who had brought her there, but a plump, dark woman, with gold hoops in her ears, who was gently wiping the rain from Phil's face, three or four ragged children dressed in bright reds and yellows, staring intently at her with big black eyes, and a dog or two, discreetly lurking in the dim background.

Susan sneezed again, and the woman turned from Phil and spoke.

”It's the smoke, dearie,” said she kindly. ”You'll be used to it in a moment. Tell your little brother not to be afraid. He is among friends.

We wouldn't hurt a hair of your heads. Tell him that.”

”I want to go home,” said Phil, with under lip thrust out. ”I want to go home.”

”And so you shall,” said the woman briskly, ”as soon as it stops raining a bit, and my man can find out where you live.”

”Straight up the hill,” said Susan quickly. She, too, was eager to be at home. ”I saw you at my gate,” she added shyly, to the man. ”My grandfather said 'Sarishan' to you.”

Susan knew the brown velveteen coat, though the red tie was hidden under the upturned collar.

The man looked at her a moment, and then he smiled.