“I’ve had to wait here for you, master and missy,” said the man.  “There were some farmers men down that way, round the corner,” and he jerked his thumb—­for he had by this time come out of his hole—­in an imaginary direction, “as said this were a private road, and they’d set dogs on us if we came on.  I’m a peaceable fellow, and not fond o’ fightin’, so I’d just have gone on my way out of their road but for promisin’ you to come round this way.”

“It’s very strange,” said Duke; “I don’t know what it means about a private road, but I know everybody always passes this way—­that’s why us likes Spy Tower so much, there’s so many people passing.”

“It’s all along of our being poor folk,” said the man; “there’s no fair play for poor folk.  But I’m one as keeps his word, so here I am.  And the donkey and the missus are down the road there waiting—­there’s a little wood where we thought nobody would disturb us for a bit, if you and missy will come so far—­the missus said she’d unpack the pots.  But you must be quick—­I dursn’t hang about here, and if you can’t come there’s no more to be said,” and he turned as if to go.

“Just wait one instant, please,” said Pamela hastily, extracting one of the fragments from her apron; “just look at this.  It’s no use our going to see the bowls if you’ve none the same—­do you fink you have any like this?”

The man pretended to start.

“Well, that is cur’ous,” he said.  “If my eyes is not deceivin’ me, that’s the very pattern we’ve a whole set on—­the bowls shouldn’t ought to be sold separate, but to oblige you we’ll see what the missus will do,” and again he turned to go.

The children looked at each other.  They had never before in their lives been outside the gates alone; of this back road and where it led to they knew very little, as it was always on the other road—­that leading to Sandlingham—­that Nurse liked to walk.  They did not remember the little wood the man spoke of, but they did not like to contradict him; then, if it was only such a little way, they could run back in a minute when they had got the bowl, and all would be right.  So they took each other’s hands and followed the man, who was already striding some steps in front down the lane, glancing behind him over his shoulder from time to time to see if the little couple had made up their minds.

A few minutes’ quick walking on his part, necessitating something between a trot and a run on theirs, brought them out of the lane into the high road.  Here the man stopped short for a moment and looked about him—­the children supposed in search of his companions and the donkey.  But there was no one and nothing to be seen.

“I don’t think us can come any farther,” said Duke rather timidly.  The man turned round with a scowl on his face, but in a moment he had smoothed it away and spoke in the same oily tones.

“It’s just a step farther,” he said, “and I can take you a shorter way through the fields than the missus could go with the donkey.  This way, master and missy,” and he quickly crossed the road, still glancing up and down, and, climbing over a stile, stood beckoning for the children to follow.