“Stuff and nonsense!” it cried shrilly. “Pull yourself together, Father. Come now, come now, snap your fingers in its face! Laugh at it, I say, and—tss——” The speaker made a little hissing noise. “Where is it?”
The other voice here murmured some reply too low for the children to catch.
“What’s that?” replied the first speaker. “No—not you. But I’ll tell you what will happen, you’ll be having an attack of melancholia——”
“Oh, not that, not that!” The low voice was raised and pleading. “Don’t talk of melons, Glan, don’t, I pray you. They make me think of those lemons—and the—and——”
“Now don’t you think of that any more,” ordered the high voice. “Come, come, come. Pull yourself together....”
The speakers became visible, wending their way through the wood in which the children were standing. One was a young, fat, rosy-cheeked man, with a jolly smile, wearing a white overall and white baker’s cap; he was clean-shaven, and was the possessor of the high voice. His companion was a striking contrast to him, being old and thin and pale, with a long white beard; he was dressed in a rich, dark-coloured robe, and had a number of keys dangling from his belt. They pulled up short when they caught sight of Jack and Molly; then advanced slowly, with sidelong glances at each other and low whispers.
Molly stepped forward.
“If you please,” she said, very politely, “could you tell us where we are?”