Mirmex would have liked to have gone to Tom's rescue, but the Black Town was very busy in getting ready for the long winter, while the Ladybirds themselves were beginning to succumb to the coming sleep and were disappearing one after the other. Even Seven Spot was becoming drowsy as the winter languor began to steal over him. With difficulty he kept himself from yielding to the desire for sleep, yawning much in secret, but Chrysomela encouraged him with praise of his real willingness to help. Every day he flew to the neighborhood of the Red Town, crawling all around it, until, one day, he was rewarded by seeing Little Tom come out of the town with his guards.
Seven Spot did not want to show himself, so he flew high above the procession, lighting here and there on the bushes, until he discovered the exact spot where Tom was working. Then he sat hidden near by, on a wild briar bush, until he discovered the store of beams Tom was collecting. The next day, he came very early and lighting low down, on a blackberry, crawled about conspicuously so that Tom would be sure to see him. When he learned that Tom had seen him, he flew back immediately to Chrysomela to tell her the good news.
Then they planned how they should help Tom to escape, but no good plan occurred to them. All that night they could not sleep, and in the morning they again took counsel with one another, but without result, until, towards evening, when Seven Spot was again describing how Tom was working close to the brook, the Wood-bug suddenly thrust his head into the room and asked just where the spot was. He had been working in the corridor preparing his winter quarters and had overheard what Chrysomela and Seven Spot were discussing. When Seven Spot had described the place to him and just how one could reach it, Chrysomela begged him to help them with his advice. The Wood-bug listened very carefully, nodding his head now and then. When Seven Spot had finished, he only said »To-morrow I will bring him«, and at once left the room.
All that night and the next day they waited in the greatest anxiety, until, finally, the Wood-bug, true to his word, arrived with Little Tom. When Chrysomela had finished her story, they heard Seven Spot snoring loudly and they could hardly waken him. Seven Spot looked up, rubbing his eyes, heavy with sleep.
»Oh, King,« he said, speaking with some difficulty, »I am happy that I again see you, but be good enough to excuse me, for already the winter sleep is upon me and I hardly know where I stand.«
They took leave of each other and Seven Spot disappeared languidly into the corridor, while Tom was left alone with Chrysomela in their dwelling. They sat together until late in the evening, as they had much to talk about. When, finally, they were ready to retire, they told each other that in the morning they would look over their kingdom.
In the morning, when they had come out of the beech, they could see nothing around them but a white fog which lay on every object. Through the mist, they groped their way to the pool; but there was now no sign of the green arches, the yellow cattails, or the red willow herbs. Everywhere, were only the ends of bare, brown trunks and dry, rustling bushes, while the ground was muddy and the moss soaked with water and even from the pool the beautiful water-lilies had disappeared. All around them, there was not a single living creature. Empty and sad was their kingdom, without color, light or perfume.
Nowhere was there a sign of the former life, or its delightful charm. They sadly returned to their home, wet and cold, where the Wood-bug awaited them. When he finally espied them, he shuffled about on his six feet, nodded with his whiskers and aired his wing shells, until he found courage to speak.
»When are we going to clear up?« he inquired.
Neither understood him and asked what he meant. Wood-bug was puzzled that his meaning was not plain. »Why, clear up for the winter,« he said. »Where do you wish to sleep?«