Very cautiously she entered the wood, and started her search, ears and eyes constantly on the alert, and hands and feet ready to spring and climb up a tree at any moment, if the need arose. But the need did not arise, and presently Molly found she was back within sight of Mr Papingay’s house. She went extra carefully now, so as not to attract the old man’s attention, and made a tour of the wood near his house, working in a wide circle, so as not to cross the space before his front door. Once she heard his voice calling out to know what Percy was barking at, but she did not see him.
And though at length she searched the whole of the Orange Wood, she did not find the Black Leaf; nor did she see any sign of the Pumpkin or his spies.
So she left the wood behind her, and came back over the river, and made her way to the farm-house again, where she had tea, and told them all about her day’s search. But she would not stay the night there, as there was still a long light evening to work through, and she hoped to get some way on the road to Lake Desolate before the night fell.
“You’ll pass several houses and cottages on the road,” said Mrs Rose, and proceeded to give Molly the names of several friends of hers, whom she could trust. “But be sure to come back here, if you want to.”
Mrs Rose stood at the gate waving her handkerchief to Molly, until the little girl turned round a bend in the road and was lost to sight. Then she dabbed her eyes with the handkerchief. “Bless the child,” she said, as she hurried indoors. “She deserves to win.”
From the top of one of the hills close by, Molly found she could get a splendid view of the surrounding country. The clouds had disappeared by now, and it promised to be a beautiful evening and a moonlight night. The river sparkled beneath, and the Orange Wood glowed in the evening sun, while far away, in the distance, she could see the white towers of the City. Looking down at the Orange Wood she suddenly remembered that she had forgotten to look for Mr Waffer’s face, as she passed Mr Papingay’s house. What a pity! Jack would have liked to know, when—when she met him again. But she had had so many things to think about in the wood that it is no wonder she forgot about Mr Waffer.
Descending the hill, Molly started on the road to Lake Desolate. It was pretty and green at first with cottages dotted about in small clusters, and presently she passed through a tiny village, where she stopped to inquire and search. But although every one seemed kind, and eager to help, there was nothing to be heard or seen of the Black Leaf.
About half a mile outside the village, Molly came to a few more houses and a small shop. At the door of the shop stood an old gentleman wearing a black skull-cap and a long, shabby coat. When he saw Molly approaching he came out to meet her and, seizing her hand, shook it warmly, saying that he had heard of her goodness in helping with the search and thanked her gratefully.
“I have been keeping a watch on the road for the last few days, missie, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you passed,” he said. “I heard you were coming this way.”