"Bell—Bellerophon!"
"Never mind about Bellerophon now, dear," said Hildegarde, trying to hide her anxiety, and to speak lightly. "We will have Bellerophon by and by; we don't want him here."
But Hugh was not to be turned aside; his brain was now fully awake, and at work, but his look was so calm and clear, his voice so natural and peaceful, that Hildegarde felt relieved in spite of herself.
"I have to consider a little, Beloved," he said, cheerfully, "just to straighten out my think, which appears to be somewhat mixed. What—was—I—doing—on a roof?"
Hildegarde held her peace. The child must take his own way, she felt; she did not dare to cross him.
"I went up—on a roof!" Hugh went on. "I think it was a roof, Beloved?"
Hildegarde nodded.
"And there—I was Pegasus, you remember; I have been Pegasus a great deal lately, but I shall not be him for a good while now, because I have had enough,—I was Pegasus, and I wanted Bellerophon. The Christmas Tree frightened him away, so I came—somewhere—perhaps here? and I thought it was a mountain. I thought it was Helicon, and if I climbed up to the top, Bellerophon would come to me, and we would fly down and kill the Chimæra, don't you see?"
"I see, dear, of course! And then—?"
"Then I called out to Bellerophon that I was ready, and we would fly. But—but just as we were going to fly, some strong person took hold of me, and I looked, and I was on a roof, with Captain Roger holding me. Where is Captain Roger, Beloved? And where was the roof?"