"Well, it's where candle-light grows."
"Candle-light!" she cried. "You mean—! Oh, it's where my fath-er comes!"
"Sometimes."
"Will he be there now?"
"Only the Bird can tell us that."
Then she understood Jane's last gasping admonition—"Get you-know-what out of the way! A certain person mustn't talk to it! If she does she'll find—"
It was the Doctor's hand that steadied her as she hurried forward in the darkness. It was a big hand, and she was able to grasp only two fingers of it. But that clinging hold made her feel that their friendship was established. She was not at all surprised at her complete change of attitude toward him. It seemed to her now as if he and she had always been on good terms.
The others were near. She could hear the tinkle-tankle of the Piper's pipes, the scuff of Puffy's paws, the labored breathing of the little old gentleman as he trudged, the heavy tramp, tramp of the Policeman. She made her bare feet travel as fast as she could, and kept her look steadily ahead on the dim stars.
And saw, moving from one to another of them, in quick darts—now up, now down—a small Something. She did not instantly guess what it was—flitting across that half-darkened sky. Until she heard the wild beating of tiny pinions!
"Why, it's a bird!" she exclaimed.