"If you're wanting a place to stop at," the man remarked, "I should advise you to take up at the same house with us. That's it—the long, low, white house there. It's very cheap. Come along."
The tavern was kept by a fat old landlord and landlady who made no objection to receiving their new guests, but praised Nelly's beauty and were at once prepossessed in her behalf. There was no other company in the kitchen but the two showmen, and the child felt very thankful that they had fallen upon such good quarters. The landlady was very much astonished to learn that they had come all the way from London, and appeared to have no little curiosity touching their farther destination. But Nell could give her no very clear replies.
That evening the wayfarers enjoyed the Punch show, though poor Nell was so tired that she went to sleep early in the performance.
The next morning she met the showmen at breakfast.
"And where are you going to-day?" asked the little man with the red nose.
"Indeed, I hardly know. We have not decided," replied the child.
"We're going to the races," said the little man. "If that's your way and you'd like to have us for company, let us travel together."
"We'll go with you, and gladly," interposed Nell's grandfather, eagerly; for he had been as pleased as a child with the performance of Punch.
Nell was a trifle alarmed over the prospect of a crowded race-course; but this seemed their best chance to press forward, so she accepted the invitation thankfully.
For several days they travelled together, and despite the wearisome way the child found much novelty and interest in the wandering life. But presently she became uneasy in the changed attitude of the two showmen. From being ordinarily kind, they now seemed to watch Nell and her grandfather so closely as not to suffer them out of their sight.