“Oh, no, Ben Holt!  You can’t mean that,” said Susan.  “Why, it’ll frighten him awful, and it do smell so bad of the last leopard.”

But for this answer the poor girl only got a crack of the whip round her ankles.

What might have really happened at the end is not known; but suddenly at this juncture the swing door was flung open and little Diana marched in.  She held her head well back, and trotted boldly into the center of the arena.

“Dear, dear, what’s all this fuss?” she cried out in her frank, hearty voice.  “Uncle Ben, is anybody a-vexing of you?”

“Yes, my dear; that little brother of yours.  You jest tell him to do his duty.”

“Oh, Diana, Diana! he’s killing me!” sobbed little Orion.  He struggled out of Susan’s arms, flew to his sister, flung the whole weight of his little body against her, and gave way to a fresh agony of howling and weeping.

Diana’s black eyes flashed.

“You stay k’iet.  Orion; ’member you is a giant,” she said, speaking in a whisper to the boy.  “I’s here, and I’ll look after you.  You stay k’iet.  Now, Uncle Ben, what’s all this?”

“Only that silly boy won’t ride Greased Lightning.  He won’t even stand on the ’orse, let alone leap through the rings and the balloons.”

“Is that all?” said Diana, her eyes gleaming.  “But I can do all that; I can do all that beautiful. Dear G’eased Lightning!” She unclasped Orion’s arms from her neck and trotted across the stage.  She ran up to the great chestnut and began to stroke its nose.  The creature licked her little hand and looked affectionately down at her small figure.

“Uncle Ben,” she said suddenly, “I isn’t going to have Orion punished; you isn’t to do it; give him to me.  You can’t do anything with a little sild like that if you fwighten him.  Give him to me, Uncle Ben; I’ll manage him.”

“But what are you but a little child yourself?” said Uncle Ben.

“Yes, but I is made different.  Nothing fwightens me.  I aren’t afeared of nothing, and I aren’t afeared of you, Uncle Ben, so don’t you begin to think I is.”

“Never seed sech a child,” said Uncle Ben, once more restored to good humor.  “Jest notice that perfect demon of a ’orse, how ’e takes to ’er.  Never seed anything like it afore.  Well, missy, and if you can manage your brother I’m sure I’ll be only too pleased, but jest you remember this—­you are both to go before the footlights to-morrow for the public to see.  I has never had that young ’un on the stage yet, but he’s to ride with you to-morrow.”

“So he shall, Uncle Ben; course you will, won’t you, Orion?”

“With you, Di,” sobbed Orion; “if you are close to me, Di.”

“Course I’ll be close to you, Orion.  I is the gweat Diana.  Well, Uncle Ben, you isn’t going to punish him.  If you punish him he can’t wide, ’cos he’ll be ill.  He’s a giant.”

“A pigmy I call him,” said Uncle Ben.