Life and Adventures of Santa Claus & Other Christmas Novels. Люси Мод Монтгомери

with which they had travelled turned Rollo into the unhappy monster. It was very amusing, but after a few days they began to wish for other companions.

      'If Silva and Waldo were here,' said Rollo, 'what fun we could have! I wonder what they do all day, Maia.'

      'They work pretty hard, I fancy,' said Maia. 'Waldo goes to cut down trees in the forest a good way off, I know, and Silva has all the house to take care of, and everything to cook and wash, and all that. But I should call that play-work, not like lessons.'

      'And I should think cutting down trees the best fun in the world,' said Rollo. 'That kind of work can't be as tiring as lessons.'

      'Lessons, lessons! What is all this talk about lessons? Are you so terribly overworked, my poor children? What should you say to a ramble in the woods with me for a change?' said a voice beside them, which made the children start.

      It was the doctor. He had come round the corner of the wall without their seeing him, for they were playing on the terrace for half an hour between their French lesson with Mademoiselle and their history with the chaplain.

      'A walk with you, Mr. Doctor!' exclaimed Maia. 'Oh, yes, it would be nice. But it isn't a holiday, and——'

      'How do you know it isn't a holiday, my dear young lady,' interrupted the doctor. 'How do you know that I have not represented to your respected cousin that her young charges had been working very hard of late, and would be the better for a ramble? If you cannot believe me, run in and ask Lady Venelda herself; if you are satisfied without doing so, why then, let us start at once!'

      'Of course we are satisfied,' exclaimed Rollo and Maia together; 'but we must go in to get our thick boots and jackets, and our nicer hats,' added Maia, preparing to start off.

      'Not a bit of it,' said the doctor, stopping her. 'You are quite right as you are. Come along;' and without giving the children time for even another 'but,' off he strode.

      To their amazement, however, he turned towards the house, which he entered by a side door that the children had never before noticed, and which he opened with a small key.

      'Doctor,' began Maia, but he only shook his head without speaking, and stalked on, Rollo and his sister following. He led them some way along a rather narrow passage, where they had never been before, then, opening a door, signed to them to pass in in front of him, and when they had done so, he too came in, and shut the door behind him. It was a queer little room—the doctor's study evidently, for one end was completely filled with books, and at one side, through the glass doors of high cupboards in the wall, all kinds of mysterious instruments, chemical tubes and globes, high bottles filled with different-coloured liquids, and ever so many things the children had but time to glance at, were to be perceived. But the doctor had evidently not brought them there to pay him a visit. He touched a spring at the side of the book-shelves, and a small door opened.

      'Come, children,' he said, speaking at last, 'this is another short cut. Have no fear, but follow me.'

      Full of curiosity, Rollo and Maia pressed forward. The doctor had already disappeared—all but his head, that is to say—for a winding staircase led downwards from the little door, and Rollo first, then Maia, were soon following their old friend step by step, holding by one hand to a thick cord which supplied the place of a handrail. It was almost quite dark, but they were not frightened. They had perfect trust in the old doctor, and all they had seen and heard since they came to the white castle had increased their love of adventure, without lessening their courage.

      'Dear me,' said Maia, after a while, for it was never easy for her to keep silent for very long together, 'it isn't a very short cut! We seem to have been going down and down for a good while. My head is beginning to feel rather turning with going round and round so often. How much farther are we to go before we come out, Mr. Doctor?'

      But there was no answer, only a slight exclamation from Rollo just in front of her, and then all of a sudden a rush of light into the darkness made Maia blink her eyes and for a moment shut them to escape the dazzling rays.

      'Good-bye,' said a voice which she knew to be the doctor's; 'I hope you will enjoy yourselves.'

      Maia opened her eyes. She had felt Rollo take her hand and draw her forwards a little. She opened her eyes, but half shut them again in astonishment.

      'Rollo!' she exclaimed.

      'And you said it was not much of a short cut,' replied Rollo, laughing.

      No wonder Maia was astonished. They were standing a few paces from the cottage door! The sun was shining brightly on the little garden and peeping through the trees, just in front of which the children found themselves.

      'Where have we come from?' said Maia, looking round her confusedly.

      'Out of here, I think,' said Rollo, tapping the trunk of a great tree close beside him. 'I think we must have come out of a door hidden in this tree.'

      'But we kept coming down,' said Maia.

      'At first; but the last part of the time it seemed to me we were going up; we must have come down the inside of the hill and then climbed up a little way into the tree.'

      'Oh, I am sure we weren't going up,' said Maia. 'I certainly was getting quite giddy with going round and round, but I'm sure I could have told if we'd been going up.'

      'Well, never mind. If godmother is a witch, I fancy the doctor's a wizard. But any way we're here, and that's the principal thing. Come on, quick, Maia, aren't you in a hurry to know if Waldo and Silva are at home?'

      He ran on to the cottage and Maia after him. The door was shut. Rollo knocked, but there was no answer.

      'Oh, what a pity it will be if they are not in!' said Maia. 'Knock again, Rollo, louder.'

      Rollo did so. Still there was no answer.

      'What shall we do?' said the children to each other. 'It would be too horrid to have to go home and miss our chance of a holiday.'

      'We might stay in the woods by ourselves,' suggested Rollo.

      'It would be very dull,' said Maia disconsolately. 'I don't think the old doctor should have brought us without knowing if they would be here. If he knows so much he might have found that out.'

      Suddenly Rollo gave an exclamation. He had been standing fumbling at the latch.

      'What do you say?' asked Maia.

      'The door isn't locked. Suppose we go in? It would be no harm. They weren't a bit vexed with us for having gone in and drunk the milk the first time.'

      'Of course not,' said Maia; 'they wouldn't be the least vexed. I quite thought the door was locked all this time. Open it, Rollo. I can't reach so high or I would have found out long ago it wasn't locked.'

      With a little difficulty Rollo opened the door.

      Everything in the tiny kitchen looked as they had last seen it, only, if that were possible, still neater and cleaner. Maia stared round as if half expecting to see Waldo or Silva jump out from under the chairs or behind the cupboard, but suddenly she darted forward. A white object on the table had caught her attention. It was a sheet of paper, on which was written in round clear letters:

      'Godmother will be here in a quarter of an hour.'

      'See, Rollo,' exclaimed Maia triumphantly, 'this must be meant for us. What a good thing we came in! I don't mind waiting a quarter of an hour.'

      'But that paper may have been here all day. It may have been sent for Waldo and Silva,' said Rollo. 'You know they told us godmother only comes sometimes to see them.'

      'I don't care,' said Maia, seating herself on one of the high-backed chairs. 'I'm going to wait a quarter of an hour, and just see. Godmother doesn't do things like other people, and I'm sure this message is for us.'

      Rollo said no more, but followed Maia's example. There they sat, like two little statues, the only distraction being the tick-tack of the clock, and watching the long hand creep slowly