Her forehead contracted again.
“What is time?” she asked.
This was a problem that Fred wasn’t prepared to solve and he discreetly changed the form of his question.
“Do you live near here?”
The girl’s look turned toward a long glade in the forest, through which Fred fancied he could see a lofty castle with battlemented walls and windows that gleamed in the strange, rich glow.
“Is that the asylum?” he cried.
“I don’t think I understand,” wistfully.
What was there she did understand? Fred’s heart warmed compassionately toward the simple-minded child, while a sudden thought came into his head. Once back in her own place—if Hameln were her own place—might not the familiar scenes bring back her scattered wits? Of the difficulties in the way he did not think.
“Say, Gretchen!” he whispered, eagerly, “wouldn’t you like to go back with me to Hameln?”