'You must not go out to-night.

There are ghosts and dreams abroad.' 'Ay ?' said Barnaby, in a frightened whisper.
'It is not safe to stir.

We must leave this place to-morrow.' 'This place! This cottage--and the little garden, mother!' 'Yes! To-morrow morning at sunrise.

We must travel to London; lose ourselves in that wide place--there would be some trace of us in any other town--then travel on again, and find some new abode.' Little persuasion was required to reconcile Barnaby to anything that promised change.

In another minute, he was wild with delight; in another, full of grief at the prospect of parting with his friends the dogs; in another, wild again; then he was fearful of what she had said to prevent his wandering abroad that night, and full of terrors and strange questions.