'In a prison!' she repeated, horror-struck at the disclosure; then she added, 'I will go to him, and share his captivity.'
'Nay, nay,' remonstrated a motherly Sparrow; 'your little ones—think—think—see—see!'
Sadly she drooped her head upon her breast; her heart was divided between a mother's duty and a wife's love.
'I will take care of the nestlings,' said a young Linnet; 'they shall feed with my little ones, I will shelter them under my wings.'
Gratefully the poor wee bird looked at her generous friend; words were not needed to express her thanks.
'Take me to him,' she piteously asked, turning to the Swallow.
'I shall pass that way to-morrow,' he said, 'for I must go and meet my comrades, to guide them here. You can go with me; I will take you to where he is imprisoned.'
The next morning, before the sun had risen, away flew the Swallow, and with him the little Wren. She heeded not that the valleys were still shrouded in mist, or that the cold grey dawn yet lingered in the skies; was not her sunshine coming? should she not soon see him who was her brightness? The day wore on, and onward still by the Swallow's side, she, with untiring pinions, winged her way; she suffered not from noontide heat, she felt not even the pangs of hunger or thirst, for her heart was filled with hope. But towards evening her pitying guide led her over a hot, murky town; the very sky above it was hidden by the thick atmosphere of smoke which seemed completely to envelope it; the two birds could scarcely breathe, the air was so dense with poisonous gases.
'It cannot be here?' she gasped, as suddenly the Swallow paused in his rapid flight.
'See, see!' was his exclamation.