The seaside town of Madersley was crowded to excess.  It was the height of the summer season, and Holt’s circus was doing a roaring trade.  There were two exhibitions daily, and every available corner in the great tent was crammed to excess.  The spectators said that they came principally to see the little dark-eyed girl ride.  For Diana had taken to the life almost as kindly as a young duck takes to the water.  She had learned her part quickly, and in a very short time she could ride even the most spirited horse.  She was really almost destitute of fear, and was even seen to laugh when she was put upon the back of a buck-jumper, who did his utmost to toss her off.  There were always men or women close by to catch her if she did fail to go through any of the rings, the large paper balloons, or the other obstructions put in her way.  Her piquant little face, the bold expression of her eyes, her fearless manner, and the unmistakable look of babyhood about her, roused the spectators to a frenzy of admiration.

But though Diana did well and delighted Ben Holt, Orion by no means followed her example.  Put to the test, poor little Orion had little of the real giant about him.  He was an ordinary little boy, with pretty black eyes and a good-humored, somewhat touching expression of face, but Diana was anything but an ordinary girl.

Orion, having slipped once or twice from the back of Greased Lightning, became terribly afraid of the beast, and always turned white to his little lips when he was going through his exercises.  As a rule, Ben Holt always trained the novices himself, and although he was kind to Diana, he soon began to have a thorough contempt for little Orion.

“He’s a peaky little chap,” he said to his wife.  “Why, he aint even worth the twenty shillin’s I paid for ’im.  Now the little ’un—­the gal—­there’s a fortune in her; but the boy—­I have no patience with the boy.”

Meanwhile, he began to use rough language and threats to the child, and once or twice he even touched the little fellow with his great whip.  On this occasion Orion lost every scrap of nerve he possessed, and fell flat down upon the sanded floor of the arena, shivering and crying painfully.  Diana did not happen to be present.  When she was by, small child that she was, Uncle Ben never showed at his worst, and Orion, looking round now in vain for his sister, gave himself up for lost.

“Now listen to me, you young villain,” said the tyrant; “I’ll force you to do what I want.  You get on Greased Lightning’s back this very minute.”

Little Orion struggled painfully to his feet.  A good-natured girl, who stood near, tried to say a word in his favor.

“Don’t you forget that he’s very young, Ben Holt,” she said.  “It will be all the worse for you if you are too hard on the little kid.”

“I’ll thank you not to give me any of your sauce, Susan Jenkins,” was the angry reply.

Susan Jenkins, a pretty, slight, fair-haired girl, who went by the graceful name of Ariel in the circus programme, did not venture to say anything further, but in her heart she resolved to give Diana a hint of the true state of the case.