"But what did I say?" asked Fiona.
"You told the Urchin that if he hurt the shore lark the Little People would take him. Well, they've taken him. That's all."
And the centipede slid down on to the ground, and with something like a chuckle vanished. He had evidently learned from his philosophy to bear with resignation the misfortunes of others.
But Fiona did not set off up a hill at once. After breakfast she went to the bookroom and spoke to her father.
"I have found out where the Urchin is, daddy," she said. "He was carried off by the fairies."
The Student showed no surprise.
"You have not been long finding out, Fiona," he said. "I thought you had ways and means of your own."
"But, daddy," she said, "I don't really believe it, you know. It sounds so absurd nowadays. Do you believe it?"
"I believe it, yes," said the Student. "I knew yesterday. Now that you know, I may talk to you about it, so far."
"I don't know that I do really know," she said. "Things like that don't really happen, do they? Whoever heard of it?"