“Oh, John, I am so glad,” cried Fairy, as the shepherd turned the lantern full on her.
“Fairy! Why, my pretty one, where have you been?” cried John.
“To Brighton; and, oh! John, I am so tired; I shall never get home.”
“To Brighton? Charlie, what do you mean by taking her to Brighton? But we will get home first, and talk about that afterwards. Take the lantern, Charlie, and lead the way. The child is dead beat; I must carry her.” And without another word the shepherd took Fairy up in his strong arms and carried her home, stopping now and then to rest, but declaring he was not tired, as she was so light, and he was used to carrying lambs; and was not she his pet lamb?
This was one of his names for Fairy, and finding he did not seem to mind carrying her, she submitted gratefully, for she was so tired she did not care how she got home, as long as she got there somehow.
Mrs. Shelley was at the gate wrapped up in a shawl, and feeling dreadfully nervous about them, although John had not told her of Dame Hursey’s terrible end when he came in an hour ago to say, just as Jack had started off to Mount Caburn to look for the children, he had heard they had been seen in Brighton that afternoon.
“Here they are, Polly, quite safe, only Fairy is tired out,” said John, as he carried Fairy into the house, and placed her in his own chair before the fire.
“Thank God! Children, children, where have you been? But I must tell Jack first; he has just come in, and was going to have some supper and then start off after you, John. Jack, where are you? They are safe,” cried Mrs. Shelley to Jack, who was upstairs.
Down rushed Jack to see for himself that it was true. He looked pale and anxious, for besides the shock of Dame Hursey’s death, he was tired out with his search for Fairy after his day’s work on the downs.
“Well, a pretty chase you have given father and me, Mr. Charlie, dragging Fairy to Brighton in this cheerful weather. If you are not ashamed of yourself, you ought to be.”