"Good-night," he said. "A thousand thanks for a most delightful and perfectly charming afternoon. Good-night." And he turned round and ran round the ledge and down the green slope.
"And just think how frightened we were," Barty said drowsily, as he crept onto the softest part of his leaf bed. "I never thought pirates could be so nice."
The Good Wolf made a jump and curled up beside him snugly. Saturday curled up and was asleep in two minutes, and Blue Crest was asleep in one. And the moon shone in at the cave window and the sound of the waves on the beach was a soft murmur.
"Did I hear you say that this was nicer than Robinson Crusoe?" asked the Good Wolf, just as Barty's eyes were closing.
"It is—nicer," answered Barty, drowsily. "But—I can't help thinking of that thing—I can't remember. What—is—it?"
"In the morning I will tell you," said the Good Wolf. And that very minute Barty's eyes shut and he could not see the white moonlight any longer because he was fast asleep.
In the morning he wakened as suddenly as he had fallen asleep. He sat up among the leaves and saw the Good Wolf looking at him.
"What is it?" he said. "I am thinking of it again. I must find out what it is."
"Come along and get your bath in the pool," said the Good Wolf, cheerfully, "you shall know then."