Kitty started. What a transformation scene! All around her moved a thousand foul and ugly shapes. The pretty frisking creatures had turned to scaly black beetles as big as rats: some wriggled like adders; others looked like monster earwigs, with tails like pinchers; others were little men with heads of frogs; and the ugliest of all was her naughty sprite. It had cruel eyes, and its fur was black and coarse like bristles. Once more it sprang upon her shoulder, and laughed and muttered, “No Christmas! No blessing! No Johnnie!”
Kitty felt quite cold. She looked round to her right shoulder. No guardian child perched there. She looked up to the sky for her guiding star, but it was gone. She was alone in the pathless woods with her naughty sprite grinning and muttering. It seemed to her also that a mist was closing around her. Then Kitty gave a great cry. “My guardian child! my guardian child!” she called.
Her cry was repeated by a thousand shrill, mocking voices.
“No Christmas! No blessing! No Johnnie!”
“Look!” muttered the sprite, pointing.
Kitty perceived something lying white on the ground. At first she thought it was a lily, then she saw it was a pale white face, lying very still, with closed eyes and a rim of golden hair around its forehead. Was it Johnnie’s face?
As she peered fearfully to see, the mist gathered and hid it. Then she found that a dreadful thing was happening; the bushes were closing round her. She set off at a run to find an opening, but there was none—round and round—closer and closer the bushes gathered.
“Punishment Land!” muttered the sprite.
“Punishment Land!” echoed the mocking voices.
Faintly Kitty heard a sound of tramping. Little feet were running round and round, backward and forward, zigzag; rebellious, weary, foolish, perplexed little feet.