“It’s a funny old song,” said Johnny. “I’ve heard it somewhere. Perhaps it’s from light opera.”
“But how strange to be singing that, here! Who could they be?”
“Who knows?” Johnny answered slowly.
“Now they’re coming closer,” he said a moment later. “Must be eight or ten of them!”
“Suppose they come all the way?” She gripped his arm firmly. “That would be—”
“I think we’ll take care of ourselves, Mildred.” His tone was deeply serious. “Some time,” he added, reflectively, “we’ll go up to that ancient castle that was a fort—and, perhaps, a prison!”
“We might, some day. Only—”
“Only what?”
“It might be dangerous.”
“Poof!—What is danger?”