"It's late for ye to be out by yerselves," continued Joe. "Aren't ye frightened for the dark?"
"Oh no," replied Darby readily; "that never frightens us. God is in the dark as well as in the light, and He always takes care of us."
"Ahem!" and Joe coughed awkwardly, not knowing what to say. He was not used to replying to such remarks.
By this time Joan had hushed her sobs to listen to the conversation. She wriggled uneasily under the confining shawl; and hearing that she was quiet, Moll allowed the little thing to sit up in her arms and look about her.
At this point Joe made a movement of impatience, which Moll understood. He was in haste to push on, for it would soon be dark, and he was hungry for his supper.
Moll frowned at him. She wanted to work things in her own way, and she understood that little people don't like to be hurried.
"Aren't you afeard to be out on this lonesome place so late, my pretty?" she asked in a sugar-sweet voice, turning a beaming face upon Joan.
"No—I's never f'ightened of dark, or dogs, or fings," she said, drawing somewhat back from the bold face so near her own; "but I's sometimes f'ightened for peoples. I's f'ightened for you, some, and I's awful f'ightened for him," added Joan in a whisper, pointing her tiny finger in the direction of Mr. Harris, who was busily engaged in lighting his pipe.
Moll scowled, and gave the little girl a slight shake.
"You're frightened, are you?" and she laughed wickedly. "All the same, the pair o' ye'll have to come along o' us. We'll see ye safe to yer journey's end. Ye might meet tramps or gipsies, or—oh, I don't know what all! They'd pop ye into a bag an' carry ye away wi' them."