"We don't want to drink—but by Jingo if we do,
We've got the wine—we've got the rain—
We've got the ev'ning dew,"
and then came peals of laughter from every side.
As these words rang in his ears, the boy wished as hard as he possibly could that his sister might be suffered to come back with him safe and sound, and no sooner had he formed the wish than there she stood under the old pollard, looking very much as usual, and rubbing her eyes as if she had just been suddenly awakened from a very comfortable sleep, and didn't half like it.
Philip's first impulse was to rush up to her at once, but he fortunately remembered that he was not in an ordinary place or discharging ordinary duties. On the contrary, he had a tremendous responsibility upon his shoulders, and if he should make any mistake it was impossible to foresee the consequences either to his sister or himself. He therefore stood perfectly still and said in clear and distinct tones,—
"Evelyn, I want you."
The child scarcely appeared to see him when bespoke—then she seemed to make an effort to move forward, but stopped as if something prevented her, and the next moment the whole troop of little beings came darting out from every corner of the glade and stood between her and her brother. Then, as they had done on the previous occasion, they joined hands and danced round and round the circle in which Philip stood, although their dance was slower and less merry than before.
This went on for several minutes, and then they stopped, and fell back on all sides into the fern and brushwood, whilst the little queen remained. She stood perfectly still for a full minute, casting a look upon Evelyn in which pleasure and sorrow were curiously blended, and seemingly unwilling to break the silence which prevailed. Then she turned her head round and looked upon Philip, who stood there, full of anxiety as to what would be the upshot of the whole affair, and doubtful whether he ought himself to speak or not. Then she said,—
"Once again, alas! we've heard