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But it had not taken her very long to learn how much her father wished to see Prince Jan once more. So the little family had travelled back to Jan's home in the Alps. That evening Jan was very happy as he stretched before the fireplace at the captain's feet.
"Haven't you ever told your sister about it?" Peter inquired, and Janet shook her head. "Then I'll tell you, Phyllis," Peter promised; "but I'll wait until we are on the scene of action." "There are a lot of things I want to ask you," Phyllis laughed, "and a lot of places I want to see. Jan's no good at telling stories, she leaves out all the most interesting part."
"I hope you will, Grandpa," said Janet. "Did Mr. Crittendon say anything about the queer blue light Jan and Ted saw?" asked Grandma Martin. "No, he hadn't seen that." "Where did the tramps come from? And is he sure they weren't gypsies?" asked Jan's mother. "No, they weren't gypsies. We don't often see them around here.
Cloud and fog were not dealt with in this cursory fashion in Wilton. It clinched Jan's doubts into certainty. Something was being kept from him, something of which this stranger, who had only been in the town a few hours, was cognizant. For the first time in fifty years another had usurped his place as Willie's confidant. It was monstrous!
Was Christina fooling him? The thought was impossible. Never once had she pleaded for herself, never once for Jan. The evil thought was the creature of Dame Toelast's evil mind. Christina loved him. Her face brightened at his coming. The fear of him had gone out of her; a pretty tyranny had replaced it. But was it the love that he sought? Jan's soul in old Nick's body was young and ardent.
They should have her if they liked; I'd not." "You hear, Mrs. Peckaby," said Jan in her ear. "I'd let the saints alone for the future, if I were you." "I mean to, sir," she meekly answered, between her sobs. Peckaby in his shirt and nightcap, opened the door, and she bounded in. The casements closed to the chorus of subsiding laughter, and the echoes of Jan's footsteps died away in the distance.
For a moment the Cheap Jack's wife seemed staggered; but unluckily Jan added, "She died last month," and it was evident that he knew nothing of his real history. "Oh, them mill people, them false wretches!" screamed the woman. "Have I been a paying 'em for my precious child, all this time, for 'em to teach him to deny his own mother! The brutes!" Jan's face and eyes blazed with passion.
The deep imprints of his heeled boots in the soft snow showed that he ran for only a short distance at a time a hundred yards or less and that after each running spell he brought the pack to a walk. He was heavy and lacked endurance, and this discovery brought a low cry of exultation to Jan's lips. He fell into a dog-trot.
But though he himself did not know it, and Bill could not possibly suspect it, it yet was a fact that something of wakefulness remained and grew through the intervals between Jan's forced marches.
Shorty's hand stroked Jan's head, and every once in awhile the man would say, "I'm so glad you found him." "You love dogs, don't you?" asked the old poundmaster, as they rose to go. Shorty looked down at Jan for a second, then answered, "I never had any friends in my life excepting dogs."
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