“To be sure I will, if you want me,” said the boy.
“Don’t be puzzled, Miss Mavis, pleasant dreams don’t do any one harm.”
And as they pushed open the great, nail-studded door which was never locked till after nightfall Winfried ran off.
They stood still for a moment just inside the entrance. They could hear him whistling as he went, smoothly at first, then it seemed to come in jerks, going on for a moment or two and then suddenly stopping, to begin again as suddenly.
“He’s jumping down the cliff. I can hear it by his whistle,” said Ruby. “How dangerous!”
“He’s very sure-footed,” said Mavis with a little sigh. She was feeling tired—and—was it a dream? If so, how had she got home? Had the fairy lady wrapped her round in her cloak of mist and flown with her to the castle? Mavis could not tell, and somehow Ruby did not ask her again.
“How did you come home, Ruby?” Mavis asked as they were going along the passage to their sitting-room.
“Oh,” said Ruby, “Winfried took me down some steps, and then up some others, and before I knew where we were, we were in the rock path not far from home. It was like magic. I can’t make out that boy,” she said mysteriously; “but we’re not turned into frogs or toads yet. Here we are, cousin Hortensia,” she went on, as the good lady suddenly appeared at the end of the passage, “safe home from the wizard’s haunts.”
But Miss Hortensia only smiled.
“I was not uneasy,” she said. “I thought you would be quite safe.”