"Hush!" Grizzel said suddenly, "she is singing 'I shot an arrow into the air'; Mamma sings that and I love it. I want to listen; may we go nearer?"
They tip-toed across the gravel, and stood in the shadow of the lamp-lit window.
"I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth I know not where,
For who has sight so swift and strong
That it can follow the flight of a song?
"Long, long afterwards, in an oak
I found the arrow still unbroke.
And the song from beginning to end
I found again, in the heart of a friend."
"I love that," Grizzel whispered. "Papa says you often do find the song long, long afterwards. I think it's something like casting your bread upon the waters, though I never could understand why they chose bread. I shouldn't think there would be much of it left after many days in the water. I like a song better."
Hugh had stepped nearer to the window, and was observing the interior of the room with curious eyes. "Who's the old buffer with white hair?" he asked.
Mollie began to laugh, but suddenly stopped. She looked from the boy to the man—so there were two Hughs! "He is a Time-traveller," she answered softly, "but he has travelled the other way, forwards, you know. He has invented a lot of things about flying."
"Has he!" exclaimed Hugh. "That old chap!" He leaned forward and gazed more intently at the white-haired man. "I wish I was him," he said wistfully!
"Cooo-eee!"
The call seemed to come from far away, muffled, perhaps, by the night air.