CHAPTER XIII.

CONRAD AND JOSEPHA.

OW should I know?" rejoined Philippa

"H°

sharply, "you took them off yourself in the morning, and most likely left them on the grass.

Yes, I know I laid them on the grass," returned the showman grumbling, "in order that you might pack them up along with the rest of the traps; and I fancy you'll have to trudge back for them, old woman, if you've left them behind."

Trudge back yourself, then, if anybody's to trudge!" replied she; and a quarrel ensued, the details of which escaped Claude's ears, till he heard the man end it by saying, "Now then, young 'uns, tumble into your kennels, will ye?” probably accompanying the word with a kick, to judge from the shrill cry that ensued.

Claude guessed pretty well who his neighbours

were, and resolved to keep himself close, for he felt no pleasure in their vicinage. They were evidently a couple of brutal tramps, and he loathed the idea of their poor little captives being kept from straying, like a couple of dogs, by chain and padlock. The party apparently soon settled to rest, for all became quiet as death; and Claude, after gazing up at the stars a while longer, and saying his prayers under his breath, fell into deep sleep. He was awakened at dead of night by a nightmare sensation of a heavy weight on his chest; and the strangeness and discomfort of his position, added to the oppressive feeling under which he was labouring, caused a trembling sense of fear to creep over him, and made the perspiration cover his forehead. He experienced something like terror on discovering that his nightmare was no fancy; that something warm, soft, breathing, and comparatively heavy, actually lay curled up on his chest. It faintly murmured when he touched it, and when with a slight shudder he withdrew his hand and placed it beside him, again it encountered something warm, soft, and alive, nestling close to his side. For a moment the idea of a couple of young

lambs or kids

occurred to him; but the next instant he woke up sufficiently to recognise by the moonlight the little Albinos. They also were awake and peering into his eyes, and immediately began almost to smother him with soft kisses, laying their little fingers on their lips in sign of silence. Then, scrambling down off his reclining body, they muttered something to each other, and shaking back their little spun-glass ringlets, seized one another by the hand, rushed out into the moonlight, and commenced capering, waltzing, and whirling each other round on the broad turf in perfect silence, till Claude thought he could almost realize in them a pair of little fairy elves.

All this was evidently done as much for his gratification as their own, for they frequently looked towards him to see if he were watching them, and then recommenced their little gambols, interlacing their tiny arms, retreating, returning, separating, reuniting, in perfect time, though to no music, but that of their own happy liberated spirits. It seemed the outpouring of infantine joy at their unaccustomed freedom, and of gratitude to him who had been kind to them, though but in a passing caress: and for him they ran

their baby exercises o'er, voluntarily, after the fashion that they had been tutored by blows and starving, to exhibit them to the public. Claude utterly disbelieved what the showman had said with respect to their age, and felt convinced they were very young children; though, to enhance the marvel of their dwarfishness, they were dressed up like adults.

Suddenly they ceased, made a low bow and curtsey, and then, darting back to him, climbed once more up his chest, clasped their little arms about his neck, and fastened their lips to his cheek as if in a perpetual kiss. He smiled, and after yielding for a minute or two to their ardent demonstrations of gratitude, attempted gently to put them off; but lo! they were both fast asleep! Claude was very fond of children; he had pity on these poor little wretches, he was not used to such sudden and caressing attachments, he was somehow melted and won-in short, he let the little creatures alone, sleeping soundly one on each side of him; and presently fell sound asleep himself.

At daybreak he was awakened by hearing the showman exclaim in a voice of dismay-"Hey!

hilloa! why, the kennels are both empty! Philippa, how's this? Here's a pretty business!"

Claude advanced, with an Albino in each hand. "Here are your little charges, master," said he pleasantly, "they found me out, sleeping under a sand-bank, and didn't go far astray."

Hallo," said the man with a grim laugh, "they soon tracked you out...Well, I owe you something for bringing them back to me, for they cost me a pretty penny. Will you breakfast with

us?"

'Gladly," said Claude, who was too hungry to be very fastidious.

I

"My old lady will have some coffee for us presently; she's lighting a fire to boil it e'en now. shall want something hot and strong to wind me up a bit, for we've got to turn back to where we were the night before last, to find the padlocks. If I sent her back, by herself she'd stop half-way to drink, and pretend she couldn't find 'em; so to what good?"

"To what good, indeed," repeated Claude. "However, I should hardly think it worth your while to undergo all that trouble for a few links of old iron. You might do without them."