The Tambys' intention was to proceed to the fair at Beaulieu, where mountebanks usually did well, and as it would open in three weeks, and it would take them quite twenty days to get there with so old and weak a horse as Steady, they had little time to lose.

They set off in the forenoon, all four of them deeply regretting that they must leave this place, where they had found so many kind friends, and once more make their way amongst strangers, the most of whom took no interest in them whatever.

En route to Beaulieu they halted frequently to give performances, with varying success. Sometimes the receipts would hardly be enough to buy food for the animals, and sometimes more than sufficient to provide for them all.

"It is certainly fortunate that we did get such a fine collection at Morainville," said Nadine one night, when a mere handful of small dirty copper coins was all they received for a very tiring performance after a long day's travel, "or I don't know what we should do now. I am using as little of it as I possibly can, but it is getting less and less all the time."

"Oh, never mind, sister!" responded CÆsar, who was of a very hopeful disposition, and did not worry like Nadine, not feeling the same sense of responsibility; "we'll make plenty of money at the fair, see if we don't."

"I hope we will, I'm sure," returned Nadine, letting the anxious look drop from her pretty features; "for you see the summer is coming to an end and the winter will be at hand before very long, and we must have a good deal saved up to carry us through that."

"And we will have it, dear Nadine," cried CÆsar confidently, giving her a brotherly hug, and a smacking kiss that brought the blushes to her cheeks. "Never fear about that. The good God will take care of us," and off he went whistling merrily, Nadine following him with as much love and pride in her look as though she were his mother.

He was really a fine chap, CÆsar—brave, bright, manly, unselfish, and devoted to his sisters and little brother. Not as shrewd and far-seeing as Nadine, but clever enough in his way, and certain to get on in the world, if given a fair chance.

Their worst experience was at Malaventure, a town that had grown up beside a large colliery, whose miners formed the bulk of the inhabitants. Nadine, with her remarkable intuition, had some misgivings about performing there, because the place had rather a bad reputation for rowdyism, the miners being for the most part a rough lot; but CÆsar, having faith in the youth and beauty of his sister to appeal to the chivalry of the men, and insure a warm reception and proper treatment, was strongly in favor of their trying their fortune, and so she assented.

Had they been compelled to rely upon their own accomplishments they would have fared badly in regard to an audience, for the rough miners saw nothing to attract them in the performance of a quartet of children.

The elephant, however, was quite another matter. He was well worth examining at close quarters, and, moreover, it could not fail to be amusing to see so huge and apparently clumsy a creature doing tricks. Accordingly a large number of them gathered, and noisily shouldered and chaffed each other as they crowded close upon the space before the van in which the performance was given.

Nadine was undeniably nervous. The big coarse men frightened her, and she regretted that she had yielded to CÆsar's persuasion. But having once begun they must perforce go through to the end, so she put on a brave face, and went ahead.

The miners were pleased to be in a critical mood. They jeered at CÆsar's jugglery, ridiculed his playing, and sent poor little Abel off the stage in tears. Of Nalla, however, they were good enough to approve. He evidently realized their expectations and put them in such good humor that when, following him, Nadine appeared to sing, they received her so warmly that for the moment she forgot her nervousness, and bowed and smiled back at them in a charming way that evoked still more vigorous applause.

Accompanied by CÆsar on the mandolin she sang a pretty little love song which took very well, and was insistently encored. When she had responded and CÆsar had announced that after the collection was taken up the final act in which all the animals appeared would be given, she deemed it best not to send little Lydia among those rough men, but to go herself.

Accordingly, bowl in hand, she started on her rounds, and at first although some of the men tried to display their rude wit at her expense, and were amused by the indignant flush which crimsoned her countenance, she had no real trouble until in going through one of the rear rows a big black-bearded fellow attempted to throw his arm about her and give her a kiss.

Nadine screamed, and by a quick movement evaded the repulsive embrace, but the ruffian, who had been drinking too much brandy, lurched after her as she darted towards the van, calling out:

"CÆsar! CÆsar! Help!"

CÆsar, who was at that moment behind the curtain, dressing Vigilant for the next act, dropped the dog, and rushed to the front, picking up one of the foils on the way.

The black-bearded bully was close upon Nadine's skirts, none of the other spectators having the courage to interfere, and it seemed as if he might reach her before CÆsar, when relief came from an unexpected quarter.

Old Nalla had stood beside the van solemnly swaying his trunk, and to all appearance lost in profound contemplation, until Nadine's scream reached his ear. Then the great ragged flaps were pricked up, and from in front of them the bright, beady, little eyes peered forth keenly. Without making a sound the huge creature glided towards the audience, and was at the edge of the crowd almost without being noticed.

At that moment Nadine flew past pursued by the bully, whose outstretched hand sought to grasp the long tresses of her beautiful hair. But before it could close upon the silken braid a long sinuous thing suddenly shot forth and enfolded the ruffian. To his paralyzing horror he was lifted from his feet, and swung into the air amid the panic-stricken outcries of the spectators. No one thought any more of Nadine. Their eyes were fixed upon the bully struggling vainly in the irresistible grasp of Nalla's trunk, and shouting frantically for help.

The elephant held him thus on high for one thrilling moment and then flung him to one side, as though he had been a bundle of straw instead of being a hulking big fellow weighing full two hundred pounds.

He fell upon the hard pavement with a terrible thud, and lay there so still that the appalled spectators thought he must be dead.

Nadine was the first to be at his side. The instant Nalla intervened she divined what would happen. More than once she had seen him pick up fierce dogs with that marvelous weapon of his, and throw them so far that they never returned to the attack.

"Oh! I hope he isn't dead!" she panted. "It would be dreadful if Nalla killed him."

The big gross body showed no sign of life, and the people crowded around it making all sorts of futile suggestions, but doing nothing, when a couple of gendarmes appeared, and ordered them to stand aside.

One of them then examined the man carefully, and, to Nadine's inexpressible relief, announced that he was not dead, only insensible, and he bade his comrade go for a surgeon.

In a few minutes the latter returned with a spectacled person who looked very wise and dignified, and proceeded to make a thorough examination of the insensible man.

"There is probably some concussion of the brain," he announced, "but not of a serious character. How was he injured?"

Half-a-dozen began to speak at once in response, but the next moment gave way to Nadine, who described what had happened in a clear correct manner.

"Hum! hum!" murmured the surgeon. "A very odd accident indeed in this quarter of the globe, and the rascal richly deserved what befell him. Where is this highly intelligent elephant? I should like to make his acquaintance."

CÆsar had hustled Nalla off behind the scenes, but on Nadine calling out:

"CÆsar! CÆsar! Bring Nalla out!" he forthwith led him out again.

The surgeon bowed gravely to the great beast, who returned the salute with a gracious wave of his trunk, for Nalla never erred in discriminating between friends and foes.

"I am very pleased to meet you, Sir Elephant," said the surgeon. "You have just given a proof of your sagacity that I regret I was not present to witness. May I express the wish that you will always be as ready to champion the fair and defend the weak!"

As he said the last words he bowed low to Nadine, who smiled and blushed in return, and then he withdrew to give further directions concerning his patient.

Both Nadine and CÆsar were much concerned lest, when the bully recovered his senses, he would endeavor to get revenge upon Nalla, and so give them a great deal of trouble. But their fears were groundless.

It was not until late in the following day that he recovered from the effects of his downfall, and then he had the good sense to think only of returning to his work with as little delay as possible, so that no more was heard about the matter.

The Tambys were glad to leave Malaventure at an early hour the following morning. Owing to the interruption right in the middle of taking up the collection their receipts amounted to only a few francs, and the fright which Nadine got told upon her nerves so that it was several days before she entirely regained her normal serenity.

Pushing on steadily in the direction of Beaulieu they came to an ideal spot for a few days' rest. It was a snug little dell beside a clear running stream, and sheltered by a semicircle of thick-set trees.

"CÆsar," said Nadine, wrinkling her white forehead with a profound air of thought, "we have been working very hard this summer, and I think that before we get to Beaulieu, where we shall have to give two performances every day while the fair lasts, we ought to take a holiday—don't you think so, my brother?"

"Right you are, my dear!" cried CÆsar, delighted at the suggestion. "I'm just dead tired of keeping on day after day like this. Let us stay here as long as we can, eh?"

Of course Abel and Lydia gleefully concurred, and when Nalla and Steady were consulted, they clearly signified their approval, while Vigilant, divining that there was something to be joyful over, barked his best, and frisked about merrily. So the matter was settled, and permission having been obtained from the authorities of the village to which the chosen spot belonged, they prepared to spend several days in well-earned idleness.