"And is there no village nearer?"
"Yes, of course," said Pamela. "There's where Barbara Twiss and the butcher Live, and where the church is."
"And what's it called?"
"What's it called?" repeated the children. "Why, it's just called the village. It isn't called anything else."
"That's what I was afraid of," said Diana. "And it was all new country thereabouts to me. Well, there's nothing for it but to make for Sandle'ham, and once there Tim must go to the police."
At this dreadful word the children set up a shriek, but Diana quickly stopped them.
"Hush, hush!" she said, "you'll have them all coming to see what's the matter. The police won't hurt you, you silly children. They'd be your best friends if only they could find you. I'd rather have had nothing to say to them, for fear they should get too much out of Tim, but I see no other way to get you safe home. But now we mustn't talk any more, only remember all I've said if that man comes. And to-morrow, when I give you the word, you must be ready," she went on impressively; "you won't be afraid with Tim. I'll do the best I can, but we'll have to trust a deal to Tim; and you must do just what he tells you, and never mind if it seems strange and hard. It's the only chance for them," she added to herself, with a strange longing in her beautiful dark eyes, as she again left them, "but if I could but have taken them safe back myself I'd have felt easier in my mind."
She put in her head again to warn the children not to try to speak to Tim, and if they must speak to each other to do so in a whisper.
But at first their hearts seemed too full to speak. They just sat with their arms round each other, too bewildered and almost stunned with the good news to take it in.
"Bruvver," said Pamela at last, "don't you fink it's because us has said our prayers such many many times?"