“What do you think we are, then, if you don’t believe we are real people?” asked Molly, quickly, giving Jack a warning glance.
“Well, you may be only an optical illusion—I may think I see you, but you may not really be there,” suggested the Goblin blandly, wagging his quaint little head from side to side. His head and two little hands clutching the edge of the hole were still the only parts visible of him.
The children gazed down at him. An optical illusion! This was indeed a horrible thought, and made Molly pinch herself to make sure she was really there. Then she laughed.
“We are as real as you are,” she said. Then she had an inspiration. “As real as Old Nancy,” she added, watching the Goblin closely.
His expression changed immediately, and a look of glad surprise crossed his face. “Why, do you know her?” he asked quickly.
“Rather,” said Jack. “She’s a friend of ours.”
“Then I am a friend of yours,” said the Goblin, climbing out of the hole and standing beside the children. “Whether you are real—or—or—whatever you are.”
Their recent lesson in trusting people had made the children more cautious, and although they could see that they had no choice in their behaviour toward this little Goblin, as they were powerless to escape from the Heath with its swarms of goblins, yet they felt friendly disposed toward him for his own sake. He seemed quite genuine in his regard for Old Nancy, and very soon he was sitting in the tree beside them, chatting away and asking them all about themselves, and answering questions by the score.
They found that he knew that the Pumpkin had returned, one of his brother-goblins had brought the news. And they discovered also that the goblins were the Pumpkin’s bitter enemies. Then they told him all about their search for the Black Leaf, and how they were to search the Heath when daylight came.