The child shook a forefinger at 'Dolph, forbidding him to follow her.
The dog sank on his haunches, wagging a tail that swept the grasses in
perplexed protest, and watched her as she retraced her way along the
towpath.

Tilda did not once look back. She was horribly frightened; but she had
pledged her word now, and it was irredeemable. From the hurrying
traffic of the street she took a final breath of courage, and tugged at
the iron bell-pull depending beside the Orphanage gate. A bell clanged
close within the house, and the sound of it almost made her jump out of
her boots.




CHAPTER III

A KIDNAPPING


"_And with that sound the castle all to-brast; so she took him, and they
two fared forth hand in hand." "QUEST OF THE GRAIL."


The front door opened, and a slatternly woman in a soiled print dress
came shuffling down the flagged pathway to the gate. She wore cloth
boots, and Tilda took note that one of them was burst.

"Go away," said the woman, opening the gate just wide enough to thrust
out her head. "We don't give nothing to beggars."