The children slept, and presently the creatures of the night came out—­the owls, and the bats, and the night moths—­and looked with wonder at the queer little pair lying prone amongst the green clover.  Thousands of wonderful night noises also began to awaken in all directions—­the merry chirp of the cricket, the whir of the bat on its circling flight, the hum of the moths—­but the children heard nothing, although the creatures of the night were curious about these strange little beings who, by good rights, ought not to be sharing their kingdom.

At last, just when the first peep of dawn began to tinge the east, little Orion opened his eyes and rubbed them hard.  With a great rush memory returned to him.  He had run away; he had ridden Greased Lightning and had not fallen from his back; his terrible life in the circus was at an end.  Uncle Ben was nowhere near to chide him.  He and Diana had got off; but it was true that they had not put a great distance between themselves and Uncle Ben.  Perhaps Uncle Ben, who had promised that he might go away if he did his part well, might change his mind in the morning.  It was most important that he and his sister should go farther away as quickly as possible.

Accordingly, he proceeded to wake Diana.  Diana was very sound asleep indeed.  He could see her face distinctly, for the first faint return of day was spreading a tender glow over it.  She did not look pale; there was a hot spot on either cheek—­a spot of vivid rose.

“I am cold enough,” thought the little fellow, “but Diana seems warm.  Wake up, Di; wake up!” he said.  “We has runned away, but we has not run far enough.  Wake up, Di, and let’s go on.”

Diana did not stir at all at his first summons.  He spoke loudly, looking around him as he did so in some terror.  A night owl, preparing to go home, was seated on a tree near by.  The owl looked at Orion and hooted in a very melancholy manner.  His voice seemed to say: 

“I never saw two greater little fools than you children in all my life.”

Orion felt rather afraid of the owl.  Having failed to awaken Diana by words, he proceeded to shake her.  This device succeeded.  She opened her great, big, sleepy eyes and stared around her in bewilderment.

“So you is our little mother now, Iris?” she said.  “All wight; I’s coming.”

She sat up on her grassy bed and rubbed her eyes, then stared at Orion and burst out laughing.

“What are you laughing at?” said Orion.  “We are in awful danger here.  Uncle Ben may catch us any minute.”

“Who’s Uncle Ben?” asked Diana.

“Why, Di! how very queer you are.  Don’t you remember Uncle Ben, the awful man who has the circus?”

“No, I don’t,” said Diana.  “Is it true that Rub-a-Dub’s dead?”

“Oh, Di!  Rub-a-Dub died weeks ago.  What does it matter about a mouse?  I’m frightened about Uncle Ben.  If he catches us he’ll change his mind, perhaps, and I cannot ride Greased Lightning again.  Don’t speak so queer, Di.  Do rouse yourself.  We must get out of this as fast as we can.”