The scouts did not look very happy over this, for they both hated any fuss. But when they got into the big kitchen they found it was all right. The miller's wife was not a fussy person at all, and they were at home with the old lady in a minute. The little girl was sitting beside the fire in a big chair. She looked very pale, but was quite herself again.
''Tis a new thing to her, you see,' explained the miller's wife. 'She's my son's child, and lives over to Baildon, forty mile away. I don't know as ever she'd seen the race a-runnin' afore—leastways, from the bridge.'
'It made my head swing,' put in the child.
'Ay, it turned her head all swimmy like,' said the miller. 'Well, it's a merciful providence there wor' brave hearts at hand to save ye. Now,' he went on to the scouts, 'I can see by yer knapsacks an' sticks as ye be on a sort o' journey through the land.'
'Yes, we're on a scouting tramp,' said Dick.
'Ah!' said the miller, and rubbed his ear.
Dick saw he did not quite understand, and he entered on a short explanation of their movements.
'Walkin' from place to place, be ye?' said the old lady. 'Then ye must stay wi' us to-night, an' I'll see ye have a good bed.'
A good bed! The scouts looked at each other in dismay. Perish the thought! They were not out to sleep in good beds.
'Haven't you a hay-loft?' asked Dick.