The old shepherd seemed pleased. He nodded and smiled to Dick, and the bird waxed more boisterous and funny than ever.
“I begin to think,” I said, “that I have got into some house of enchantment, and that nothing around me is real.”
The shepherd put Professor Dick to bed at last, and conducted me safely over the moor. He promised to call for us next day, and take us back to the cottage in the forest to hear the Professor teaching his class.
There had been anxious hearts in the caravan during my absence, but Bob went bounding away in front of me to announce my arrival.
Frank was dressed and ready to go off to seek me, stick in hand and plaid across his manly shoulders. But all is well that ends well.
Chapter Seventeen.
The Old Man’s Dogs.
“But there was silence one bright golden day,
Through my own pine-hung mountains.”