“No,” said Flower, “I won’t stay in the hut. It is dreadful to me. I will go and tell the Doctor and Polly.”
“As you please, Miss. Maybe it is best as I should stay with little Missy. You’ll find it awful lonesome out on the moor, Miss Flower, and I expect when you get near Deadman’s Glen as you’ll scream out with terror; there’s a bogey there with a head three times as big as his body, and long arms, twice as long as they ought to be, and he tears up bits of moss and fern, and flings them at yer, and if any of them, even the tiniest bit, touches yer, why you’re dead before the year is out. Then there’s the walking ghost and the shadowy maid, and the brown lady, the same color as the bracken when it’s withering up, and—and—why, what’s the matter, Miss Flower?”
“Only I respected you before you talked in that way,” said Flower. “I respected you very much, and I was awfully ashamed of not being able to eat my dinner with you. But when you talk in such an awfully silly way I don’t respect you, so you had better not go on. Please tell me, as well as you can, how I’m to get to Sleepy Hollow, and I’ll start off at once.”
“You must beware of the brown lady, all the same.”
“No, I won’t beware of her; I’ll spring right into her arms.”
“And the bogey in Deadman’s Glen. For Heaven’s sake, Miss Flower, keep to the west of Deadman’s Glen.”
“If Deadman’s Glen is a short cut to Sleepy Hollow, I’ll walk through it. Maggie, do you want Nurse to come for little Pearl, or not? I don’t mind waiting here till morning; it does not greatly matter to me. I was running away, you know.”
“You must go at once,” said Maggie, recalled to common sense by another glance at the sleeping child. “The baby’s but weakly, and there ain’t nothing here as I can give her, except the sperits and water, until Nurse comes. I’ll lay her just for a minute on the straw here, and go out with you and put you on the track. You follow the track right on until you see the lights in the village. Sleepy Hollow’s right in the village, and most likely there’ll be a light in the Doctor’s study window; be quick, for Heaven’s sake, Miss Flower?”
“Yes, I’m off. Oh, Maggie, Maggie! what do you think? That dreadful woman has stolen my shoes. I forgot all about it until this minute. What shall I do? I can’t walk far in my stockings.”
“Have my boots, Miss; they’re hob-nailed, and shaped after my foot, which is broad, as it should be, seeing as I’m only a kitchen-maid. But they’re strong, and they are sure to fit you fine.”