Mick stood looking on, and at this he gave a sneering laugh.

"It's just as well to have covered her up," he said. "Isn't there
another shawl as'd do for the boy? Not that it matters; we'll meet no
one the road we're going. The sooner we're off the better."

He took hold of the bridle and set off as fast as he could get the
donkey to go. Diana kept her place beside it, so that, even if Pamela
had fallen off, it would only have been into the young woman's arms.
Duke followed with Tim and the other woman, but he had really to "run,"
as Mick had said, for his short legs could not otherwise have kept up
with the others. He was soon too out of breath to speak--besides, he
dared not have said anything to Tim in the hearing of "the missus," of
whom he was almost more afraid than even of Mick. And the only sign of
friendliness Tim, on his side, dared show him was by taking his hand
whenever he thought the woman would not notice. But, tired as he was
already, Duke could not long have kept up; he felt as if he _must_ have
cried out, when suddenly they came to a turning in the road and the
gipsy stopped.

"We'll get back into the wood this way," he said, without turning his
head, and with some difficulty he managed to get the donkey across a dry
ditch, and down a steep bank, when, sure enough, they found themselves
again among trees. It was already dusk, and a very little way on in the
wood it became almost dark. The gipsy went on some distance
farther--obliged, however, to go very slowly; then at last he stopped.

"This'll do for to-night," he said. "I'm about sick of all this
nonsense, I can tell ye. We might ha' been at Brigslade to-night if it