"He painted a big picture," said Peggy. "He was at it for years and years, though he was doing a lot of other ones at the same time. He called the other ones 'wolf-scarers,' because he said there was a wolf outside on the Heath that wanted to get in and eat us, and these pictures would frighten any wolf away. I used to be afraid of meeting the wolf on the Heath myself—"
"You were quite small, then, of course," put in Philip quickly.
Miss Falconer nodded, in acknowledgment of his tact, and continued:—
"—but Nurse and Mother said there wasn't any wolf really. It was a joke of Father's. He often makes jokes I don't understand. He is a funny man. And he didn't use the pictures to frighten the wolves with really: he sold them. But he never sold the big picture. He went on working at it and working at it for years and years. He began before I was born, and he only finished it a few years ago, so that just shows you how long he was. Whenever he had sold a wolf-scarer he used to get back to the big picture."
"What sort of picture was it?" enquired Philip, deeply interested.
"It was a very big picture," replied Peggy.
"How big?"
Peggy considered.
"Bigger than this gate we are sitting on," she said at last. "It was called 'The Many-Headed.' Father sometimes called it 'Deemouse,' too,—or something like that."
"What was it like?"