“Every one, sir. I cannot recollect the time when I did not as entirely deem Peregrine a changeling elf as that Robin was my own brother. He believes so himself.”
“You have never striven to disabuse him.”
“Indeed, sir, he would scarce have listened to me had I done go; besides, to tell the truth, it has only been of late, since I have been older, and have studied more, that I have come to perceive the folly of it.”
Major Oakshott groaned, and bade him call Robert without saying wherefore. The little fellow came in, somewhat frightened, and when asked the question that had been put to his elder, his face lighted up, and he exclaimed, “Oh, have they brought him back again?”
“Whom?”
“Our real brother, sir, who was carried off to fairyland!”
“Who told you so, Robert?”
He looked puzzled, and said, “Sir, they all know it. Molly Owens, that was his foster-mother, saw the fairies bear him off on a broomstick up the chimney.”
“Robert, no lying!”
The boy was only restrained from tears by fear of his father, and just managed to say, “’Tis what they all say, and Perry knows.”