Happy fidgeted, anxious to speak but afraid to interrupt Dark's thoughts.
And then Shadow reappeared. Shadow appeared out of nowhere, and made gestures at Happy. Happy glanced at Dark, timidly. At last, he gained courage to speak.
"Shadow tells me—" he began, then cringed when Dark looked up in surprise. Dark gestured to him to go on.
"Shadow tells me," said Happy, "that Old Beard wants to see you. Will you go with us to Old Beard?"
"Certainly," agreed Dark. "From what you tell me, I'm rather anxious to meet Old Beard, too."
He followed Happy and the alternately visible and invisible Shadow along the paths that twisted among the vats for some distance. At last they ducked into some luxuriant foliage that hung over to form a bower above the space between two vats.
Old Beard sat there, in a corner of the dimness, pale eyes fixed silently on the trio. Old Beard was not so very old. He appeared to be in robust middle age, although his skin was very pale from long existence underground. His hair and heavy beard were long and untrimmed, and were a deep iron-gray.
"Thank you for coming," said Old Beard in a deep, resonant voice that bespoke strength and bore an undertone of bitter determination. "It is safer for me not to move around too much in the open except at certain hours."
"I was glad to come, because I'm sure you can help me and I may be able to help you, too," said Dark. "I'm Dark Kensington."
"So Shadow told me. I find this extremely interesting."