'Why? Do they see so far? Do they see all sorts of things?' asked Maia in a rather awe-struck tone. 'Are they like fairies, Silva?'
'I don't know exactly,' said Silva. 'But I think they are very wise, and I expect they know a great deal.'
'But they can't know as much as godmother, and she isn't sad,' said Maia.
'Sometimes she is,' said Silva. 'Besides, she has more to do than the eagles. They have only to watch—she puts things right. You'll understand better some day,' she added, seeing that Maia looked puzzled. 'But isn't it cold? Oh, see there—that's to wrap ourselves up in,' for just at this moment there flapped down on them, from no one could tell where, the great soft fluffy cloak or rug which had kept them so beautifully warm during their air-journey.
'Come under the shawl,' cried Maia to the two boys, and all the children drew their seats close together and wrapped the wonderful cloak well round them.
'But aren't we going home soon?' said Maia. 'I'm so afraid of being late.'
'Godmother knows all about it,' said Waldo. 'She's sent us this cloak on purpose. There's nothing to do but sit still—till she tells us what we're to do. I don't mind, for somehow I'm rather sleepy.'
'I think I am too,' said Rollo, and though Silva and Maia were less ready to allow it, I think they must have felt the same, for somehow or other two minutes later all the four were taking a comfortable nap, and knew nothing more till a soft clear voice whispered in their ears:
'Children, it is time to wake up.'
'Time to go home! Are the birds coming for us again?' said Maia, rubbing her eyes and staring about her. A voice softly laughing replied to her: