"We've got miles to go. Remember the speed we came at!" she explained, getting up and arranging her wings.
Jimbo got up slowly and shook himself.
"I've been miles away," he said dreamily, "miles and miles. But I'm ready to start at once."
They looked about for a raised place to jump from. A ladder stood against the other side of the haystack. The governess climbed up it and Jimbo followed her drowsily. Hand in hand they sprang into the air from the edge of the thatched roof, and their wings spread out like sails to catch the wind. It smote their faces pleasantly as they plunged downwards and forwards, and the exhilarating rush of cool air banished from the boy's head the last vestige of the open-air sleep.
"We must keep up a good pace," cried the governess, taking a stream and the hedge beyond in a single sweep. "There's a light in the east already."
As she spoke a dog howled in a farmyard beneath them, and she shot upwards as though lifted by a sudden gust of wind.
"We're too low," she shouted from above. "That dog felt us near. Come up higher. It's easier flying, and we've got a long way to go."
Jimbo followed her up till they were several hundred feet above the earth and the keen air stung their cheeks. Then she led him still higher, till the meadows looked like the squares on a chess-board and the trees were like little toy shrubs. Here they rushed along at a tremendous speed, too fast to speak, their wings churning the air into little whirlwinds and eddies as they passed, whizzing, whistling, tearing through space.
The fields, however, were still dim in the shadows that precede the dawn, and the stars only just beginning to fade, when they saw the dark outline of the Empty House below them, and began carefully to descend. Soon they topped the high elms, startling the rooks into noisy cawing, and then, skimming the wall, sailed stealthily on outspread wings across the yard.
Cautiously dropping down to the level of the window, they crawled over the sill into the dark little room, and folded their wings.