But it suddenly occurred to Rosebud that granny might reach home by some other way, and find her room empty. “I will go now,” she thought, “and return in the morning.”
At the hut all was just as she had left it. She crept softly into bed, and resolved to lie awake until granny’s return, but long before daylight was sound asleep.
The next morning, as soon as breakfast was over, and the old woman had taken her staff, pinned on her blue blanket, and hobbled off, Rosebud, without telling Bess or Judy, or even Myrtle,—lest he persuade her to remain at home,—hastened away over hills and plains, until she came to the edge of the Enchanted Wood, where on the night before granny had so suddenly vanished.
While looking about in search of some hidden cavern or grotto, she saw lovely flowers growing among the bushes. These were charming, and would make fine nosegays or most lovely garlands.
She entered the Wood and rambled on and on, taking any path which offered, and while plucking the lovely flowers, and also the purple berries, forgot that the hours were flying so swiftly; and when at last she became weary, and would have returned, there appeared no way of getting from the Wood. Many paths were tried, but all in vain; and at length, overcome with fatigue, she sank down upon a mossy bank to rest.
But she was hardly seated before she heard, not far off, a voice singing. It was a young girl’s voice, very sweet, but full of sadness.
“Alone, alone!
Alas, my true love has gone!
To the wars he is marching on,
And I am alone!”