don't want to go fast; the slower we go the better it will be for missis;
and then we will stop somewhere for the night; if we come to a village, we
can stop there, and I'll get a hole in some barn to creep into, or if
there's no village convenient, there's sure to be a haystack. I've slept on
a haystack before this, Miss Rosie.'

In about half an hour Toby had made all ready, and they left the
market-place. Very slowly and carefully he drove, yet the shaking tried
Rosalie's mother much. Her cough was exceedingly troublesome, and her
breathing was very bad. She was obliged to be propped up with pillows, and
even then she could hardly breathe. The child opened the caravan door, and
every now and then spoke to Toby, who was sitting just underneath it. He
did not whistle to day, nor call out to his horse, but seemed very
thoughtful and quiet.

Towards evening Rosalie's mother fell asleep,--such a sweet, peaceful sleep
it was, that the child could but wish it to continue. It made her so glad
to hear the coughing cease and the breathing become more regular, and she
dreaded lest any jolting of the cart should awake her and make her start up
again.

'What do you think of stopping here for the night, Miss Rosie?' said Toby.

They had come to a very quiet and solitary place on the borders of a large
moor. A great pine-forest stretched on one side of them, and the trees
looked dark and solemn in the fading light. At the edge of this wood was a
stone wall, against which Toby drew up the caravan, that it might be
sheltered from the wind.

On the other side of the road was the moor, stretching on for miles and