"We're going to have it now!" he exclaimed, as, half a mile beyond the village, he felt a drop of rain on his face, then another, and another. "I wonder if there's anywhere we could get shelter? I dare say it's only going to be a thunder shower. Oh, I know! There's an old lime-kiln over there! Come, Tim!"
The boy and dog left the high road, and tore across a meadow at the far end of which, adjoining a wood, they found shelter in a disused, ivy-covered lime-kiln. The rain was falling fast now, and thunder was rumbling in the distance.
"This is a dismal hole sure enough," Tom thought, "but it would be silly to get drenched if it's going to clear directly. Why, there's some one else here! A little girl! Oh, I do believe it's Grace Lee!"
Yes, seated on the ground, her head resting-against the stone wall of the kiln, her eyes closed, her dark hair half hiding her face, was the little runaway show-girl. Peering at her in the dim light, Tom saw that she was fast asleep. Whilst he hesitated to disturb her, Tim, who had been standing at her side, wagging his tail, suddenly gave a spring into her lap, and she awoke with a start, and a cry which was almost a shriek. The next minute, however, her arms, were around Tim, and she was hugging and kissing him.
"Oh, you dear little dog!" she exclaimed; "I know you wouldn't hurt me, you darling, but, oh, you did frighten me! I thought—thought—" She broke off, shuddering, and looked up with a world of pathos in her dark eyes at Tom. "Oh, don't believe I'm so wicked as Max Sordello made out to you," she said pleadingly; "but I'm afraid you will, because I've run away."
"I don't believe you're wicked at all," Tom declared stoutly, "nor does Peter Perry. We wish we could help you."
"How kind!" said the child. Her eyes filled with tears, and her lips quivered. "I can't go back," she said. "I won't! I'd rather stay here and die! It would be better to die here than to be killed by Hero."
"Hero?" echoed Tom. "Oh, the lion! Then you're afraid of him?"
"Horribly, horribly afraid of him! I haven't minded so much going into the cages with the other lions—they're not forest-bred, and they're too afraid of Max's whip to dare to touch me; but Hero—oh, he's different! At first when they told me I was to perform with him I said, 'No, no, no!' but Mrs. Sordello said she'd half kill me if I wouldn't promise to do as Max told me, and—"
"Was that the meaning of the row I heard between you?" interrupted Tom, excitedly. "Oh," he cried, as the little girl nodded assent, "how, cruel, how cruel!"