“Perhaps you are right, Ben,” said the woman, in a very sad tone; “only,” she added, with a sigh, “if we are really going, may not I run up to Delaney Manor and just give ’em a hint?  It seems so dreadful to me if anything should happen to them little kids, more particular to little Diana, who was the mortal image of my Rachel who died.”

“If you do anything of the kind I’ll kill you,” roared the man.  “Do you want to see me locked up in prison for kidnaping children?  No; we must be out of this to-night, and I must lose the ten pund I paid for the use of the field.”

By this time the news of the posters had spread not only through the whole town, but amongst the members of Ben Holt’s troupe.  The men and women in the troupe were all interested and excited, and whenever they had a spare moment they used to run out to read the poster which Fortune had been clever enough to dictate.

Meanwhile, that good woman herself was by no means idle.

“I have done something,” she said to Iris, “and what I have done at Madersley ought to have been done before now all over the length and breadth of England.  But now, Miss Iris, having put the posters up, it doesn’t mean that we are to be idle.  We have got to do more.  I have my eye on that circus.  They says it’s a very pretty circus indeed, and there are a lot of entertaining spectacles to be viewed there.  Now, what do you say to you and me and Mr. Dolman, if he likes to come, and Master Apollo going this afternoon to see the performance?”

“I don’t think I much care,” answered Iris.  “I don’t seem to take any interest in anything just now.”

“Well, all the same, dear, I would like you to go.  The best of us can but take steps, and when we has taken the steps that Providence seems to indicate, there’s no use a-fretting ourselves into our graves.  Folks are coming to Madersley now from the length and breadth of England, being such a pretty and such a favorite seaside resort.  Let’s go to the circus this afternoon, Miss Iris, and see what is to be seen.”

Iris could not follow Fortune’s reasonings, but she submitted to her desire to pay a visit to the traveling circus, and, accordingly, that afternoon, the very last of Holt’s stay at Madersley, two other little Delaneys entered the large tent and took their places in the front row.  The children were accompanied both by Uncle William and Fortune.  The curtain rose almost immediately after their entrance, and the performance began.

For some reason or other it was sadly lacking in spirit, and a neighbor who sat not far from Fortune began to remark on the fact.

“I wouldn’t have paid three shillings for my seat if I had known the thing was so poor,” she said.  “Why, my husband was here last week and said it was downright splendid.  But I suppose that was owing to the performances of the children.”

“The children?” inquired Fortune.  “I see no children about.”