They never knew how long they slept, but when they did come to themselves, and Christian, rubbing her eyes, looked around her, and Rosy, sitting up, exclaimed "Oh, dear!" several times, they neither of them recognized their surroundings. For they were far away from the eating-house; they were in the open air, sitting side by side, two most desolate little objects, in the midst of a great builder's yard. They were leaning up against a huge building, and there were stacks and stacks of wood close to them, and the pleasant smell of newly sawn wood not far off. And there was the whir of a saw also in their ears. But how had they got there? And where was there? In what part of the whole wide world were they now?
"Oh, Rosy, what is it?" said Christian.
"I don't know," said Rosy.
"I wonder if we are dead and this is——"
"Oh, this aint heaven!" said Rosy. "I never felt more frightened in all my life. Where can we be?"
"Oh, dear! oh, dear! Can't you remember anything at all?" said Christian. "I had a dream," she continued, rubbing her eyes as she spoke. "I thought I was eating—oh, such good things!—and that, however much I ate, I was still hungry. And then I dreamt that I was sleepy, and I slept, and I wanted—oh, so badly!—to be back in my own little bed at home; but all the things I wanted I couldn't get. Oh, dear!" she added, with a bitter sigh, "I do remember now. We have run away from home. We were at an eating-house. There was a man, and he seemed quite respectable, and we fell asleep when we had eaten some good things—fried fish and potatoes. But how have we got here?"
Rosy's dark eyes opened wide. She suddenly fell on her knees by Christian's side and began to feel her.
"What are you doing now?" said Christian.
"Your pocket, Christian—the little pocket under your dress with the gold."