Suddenly he heard another sound. It seemed to be far off, but little by little it sounded nearer and nearer.
"It's just as if somebody were blowing little trumpets," thought George to himself. "I wonder where it can be?"
The sound of the music floated in the air, died away, and then, more sweetly than ever, echoed and echoed until it seemed as if it might indeed be fairy music.
"I must get up and see what it is," said George. "It might be soldiers, though they don't seem to have a drum."
He jumped quickly out of bed and went to the window. There was nothing to be seen, not even a shadow on the lawn.
"That's very queer," thought George. "I wonder that Alexander hasn't heard it."
After waiting for a few minutes he got back into bed, and scarcely had he laid his head on the pillow when far, far away sounded the fairy music.
"Lovely! Lovely!" murmured George. "It must come from that country I dreamed about last night."