Where were the swallows?
Surely they were flying about the trees, chattering excitedly, whirling from place to place, planning, discussing, and preparing for flight? Winifred listened and looked, and felt convinced of this. She was sure she could see in the uncertain light the darting black forms chasing one another, hurrying through the air, and sometimes darkening it for a moment, as a cloud of winged birds rose together from the trees, and then as suddenly dispersed again. Yes, they were certainly going to fly away that night, the child thought, and she must wait and watch to see them go.
She curled up her feet under her little gown, pulled the soft quilt more comfortably about her, rested her head against an angle of the window-frame, and prepared to stay for the flight.
How long she waited she did not know. Gradually it seemed to her that the moonlight grew brighter. It became almost as light as day, only that there was a softness and beauty in the light which seemed hardly like sunshine.
Then all at once came a whirring of countless wings. It was a soft, feathery noise, as Winifred afterwards told herself, that made her think of the angels flying through heaven. And this sound of wings came nearer and nearer, and the air seemed dimmed by a dark, soft cloud of flying birds.
“The swallows!” said Winifred, softly; “they are going. I must open the window and say good-bye.”
The window was soon thrown wide, and the child leaned eagerly out and called to the birds who were whirling past.
“Oh swallows, dear swallows! Good-bye! good-bye! Where are you going?”
And the swallows answered in a sort of musical chant:
“We are going to the land of sunshine and flowers;
We are leaving behind the darkness and cloud;
We are going whither the great power leads;
We are going we know, yet know not where.”