“I’s awfu’ s’eepy,” she said.

She did not quite know what was the matter with her; it seemed as if something had suddenly knocked all her spirit away.  She did not know herself without the brave spirit which God had put into her little breast.  Orion gazed at her anxiously.

“You do look queer,” he said; “your eyes are bigger than ever, and they stare so.  What’s the matter, Di?”

“Nothing,” said Diana.

“Aren’t you going to eat your supper?”

“I’s wather sick,” said Diana; “I don’t want to eat.  You had best eat all you can, Orion.”

“Yes, I had best,” answered Orion, “’cos I won’t have strength to run away if I hasn’t plenty of food.”

He began to eat up his own basin of bread and milk, and, as it was not too large, he thought he might attack Diana’s also; then he gave her an anxious glance.  She was sitting strangely still, her hands lying idly in her lap, her eyes staring straight at the opposite wall.

“’Member we is going away, and that you promised,” he said.  “Isn’t it time for us to be off?”

“Yes, Orion,” she answered.

“Well, drink off this teeny drop of milk; it will strengthen you.”  He brought the bowl to Diana, who sipped of a few spoonfuls; but then she shook her head.

“I’s sick,” she said; “it aren’t good to eat when you is sick.”

“Well, do come now,” said Orion.  “If you don’t go at once they will find us; and you promised, and you never broke your word yet.”

“I underland,” said Diana; “I would not bweak my word; that would be mean.”

“Well, let us go now.”

Diana slipped off the little bench on which she had seated herself.  She was still in her circus dress; her little bow was hung at her side, her arrow slung round her neck.  Orion was also in his pretty dress, with his tiny sword and belt, his blue jacket and little white knickers.

“Let’s put on our shoes,” he said; “we can’t go far in bare feet.”

“We can’t go far in bare foots,” echoed Diana, in a dreary sort of voice.  “I’s s’eepy.  Shall we wun away in the morning, Orion?”

“No; to-night! to-night!” he said, in terror.  “You’ll break your promise if we don’t go to-night.”

“All wight,” she answered.

He brought her shoes, slipped them on her feet, buttoned them, and put on his own; then he took her hand in his.  They opened the door of their bedroom and ran down a long passage, at the end of which was another door; it was on the latch.  Orion opened it, and the little children found themselves at the back of the stage.  There were no people about to see them, even Aunt Sarah was far away in one of the wings.

“There! we is safe,” said Orion.  “We has runned away, and we are safe.”

“We has wunned away and we is safe,” echoed Diana, in that dreary little voice.  “But, Orion, I’s drefful s’eepy.”

“Never mind,” said Orion; “we’ll sleep in the fields.”