Denny for the first moment was, to tell the truth, a little bit frightened herself. Common sense told her there were no such things as ogres, not now-a-days any way, at least not in England, their own country. But a dreadful idea struck her that this was not England; this might be one of the countries where ogres, like wolves and bears, were still occasionally to be found. There was no telling, certainly; but not for a good deal would Miss Denise Aylmer, a young lady of nine years old past, have owned to being frightened as long as she could possibly help it.
She caught Baby by the hand.
"What sall we do?" he said; "sall we go and tell mother?"
Denny considered.
"We'd better go and see again," she said very bravely. "You must have made a mistake, I think, Baby dear. I don't think there can be any ogres here."
Baby was much struck by Denny's courage. His hand slipped back a very little out of hers.
"Will you go and see, Denny?" he said. "Him will stay here till you comes back."
"Oh, no, you'd better come with me," said Denny, who felt that even Baby was better than nobody. "I shouldn't know where you saw the ogre," and she kept tight hold of his hand. "Which window was it?"
"It were at a tiny window really under the ground. Him was peeping to see if there was f'owers 'side of the wall," said Baby. "Him'll show you, Denny; him are so glad you isn't f'ightened."
They set off down the path, making their way rather cautiously as they got near the house. Suddenly Denny felt Baby squeeze her hand more tightly, and with a sort of scream he turned round and hid his face against her.