If they were ever to get away unseen, that was the very moment.  Short and Codlin were absorbed in giving the show, and in coaxing sixpences from the people’s pockets, and the spectators were looking on with laughing faces.  That was the moment for escape.  They seized it and fled.

They made a path through booths, and carriages, and throngs of people, and never once stopped to look behind, but creeping under the brow of the hill at a quick pace, made for the open fields, and not until they were quite exhausted ventured to sit down to rest upon the borders of a little wood, and some time elapsed before the child could reassure her trembling companion, or restore him to a state of moderate tranquillity.  His terrors affected her.  Separation from her grandfather was the greatest evil she could dread; and feeling for the time, as though, go where they would, they were to be hunted down, and could never be safe in hiding, her heart failed her, and her courage drooped.  Then, remembering how weak her companion was, and how destitute and helpless he would be if she failed him, she was animated with new strength and fortitude, and assured him that they had nothing to fear.  Luring him onward through the woods with happy looks and smiles, the serenity which she had at first assumed, stole into her breast in earnest.  The old man cast no longer fearful looks behind, but felt at ease and cheerful, for the further they passed into the deep green shade of the woods, the more they felt that the tranquil mind of God was there, and shed its peace on them.

At length the path brought them to a public road which to their great joy at last led into the centre of a small village.  Uncertain where to seek a lodging, they approached an old man sitting in a garden before his cottage.  He was the schoolmaster, and had “School” written over his window in black letters.  He was a pale, simple-looking man, and sat among his flowers and beehives, taking no notice of the travellers, until Nell approached him, dropping a curtsey, and asking if he could direct them anywhere to obtain a shelter for the night.

“You have been walking a long way?” said the schoolmaster.

“A long way, sir,” the child replied.

“You’re a young traveller, my child,” he said, laying his hand gently on her head.  “Your grandchild, friend?”

“Aye, sir,” cried the old man, “and the stay and comfort of my life.”

“Come in,” said the schoolmaster.

Without further preface, he conducted them into his little schoolroom, which was parlor and kitchen likewise, and told them they were welcome to remain till morning.  Before they had done thanking him, he spread the table, and besought them to eat and drink.