'I am so tired, Miss Maia,' said poor Nanni. 'I haven't got over the journey, and I was so afraid of being late this morning that I got up I don't know how early—they told me in the kitchen that their lady was so angry if any one was late. I think if I were to sit down on this nice mossy ground I should really go to sleep.'
'Poor Nanni!' said Maia, laughing. 'Well, do sit down, only I think you'd better not go to sleep; you might catch cold.'
'It's beautifully warm here among the trees, somehow,' said Nanni. 'Well, then, shall I just stay here and you and Master Rollo play about? You won't go far?'
'You would get a nice scolding if we were lost,' said Rollo mischievously.
'Don't tease her, Rollo,' said Maia; adding in a lower tone, 'If you do, she'll persist in coming with us, and it will be such fun to run about by ourselves.' Then turning to Nanni, 'Don't be afraid of us, Nanni; we shan't get lost. You may go to sleep for an hour or two if you like.'
The two children set off together in great glee. Here and there among the trees there were paths, or what looked like paths, some going upwards till quite lost to view, some downwards,—all in the most tempting zigzag fashion.
'I should like to explore all the paths one after the other, wouldn't you?' said Maia.
'I expect they all lead to nowhere in particular,' said Rollo, philosophically.
'But we want to go somewhere in particular,' said Maia; 'I want to find the cottage, you know. I am sure it must be somewhere about here.'
'Upwards or downwards—which do you think?' said Rollo. 'I say, Maia, suppose you go downwards and I upwards, and then we can meet again here and say if we've found the cottage or had any adventures, like the brothers in the fairy tales.'
'No,' said Maia, drawing nearer Rollo as she spoke; 'I don't want to go about alone. You know, though the woods are so nice they're rather lonely, and there are such queer stories about forests always. There must be queer people living in them, though we don't see them. Gnomes and brownies down below, very likely, and wood-spirits, perhaps. But I think about the gnomes is the most frightening, don't you, Rollo?'
'I don't think any of it's frightening,' he replied. But he was a kind boy, so he did not laugh at Maia, or say any more about separating. 'Which way shall we go, then?'
'Oh, we'd better go on upwards. There can't be much forest downwards, for we've come nearly straight up. We'd get out of the wood directly.'
They went on climbing therefore for some way, but the ascent became quickly slighter, and in a short time they found themselves almost on level ground.
'We can't have got to the top,' said Rollo. 'This must be a sort of ledge on the hillside. However, I begin to sympathise with Nanni—it's nice to get a rest,' and he threw himself down at full length as he spoke. Maia quickly followed his example.
'We shan't do much exploring at this rate,' she said.
'No,' Rollo agreed; 'but never mind. Isn't it nice here, Maia? Just like what father told us, isn't it? The scent of the fir-trees is so delicious too.'
It was charmingly sweet and peaceful, and the feeling of mystery caused by the dark shade of the lofty trees, standing there in countless rows as they had stood for centuries, the silence only broken by the occasional dropping of a twig or the flutter of a leaf, impressed the children in a way they could not have put in words. It was a sort of relief when a slight rustle in the branches overhead caught their attention, and looking up, their quick eyes saw the bright brown, bushy tail of a squirrel whisking out of sight.
Up jumped Maia, clapping her hands.
'A squirrel, Rollo, did you see?'
'Of course I did, but you shouldn't make such a noise. We might have seen him again if we'd been quite quiet. I wonder where his home is.'
'So do I. How I should like to see a squirrel's nest and all the little ones sitting in a row, each with a nut in its two front paws! How nice it would be to have the gift of understanding all the animals say to each other, wouldn't it?'
'Yes,' said Rollo, but he stopped suddenly. 'Maia,' he exclaimed, 'I believe I smell burning wood!' and he stood still and sniffed the air a little. 'I shouldn't wonder if we're near the cottage.'
'Oh, do come on, then,' said Maia eagerly. 'Yes—yes; I smell it too. I hope the cottage isn't on fire, Rollo. Oh, no; see, it must be a bonfire,' for, as she spoke, a smouldering heap of leaves and dry branches came in sight some little way along the path, and in another moment, a few yards farther on, a cottage actually appeared.
Such an original-looking cottage! The trees had been cleared for some distance round where it stood, and a space enclosed by a rustic fence of interlaced branches had been planted as a garden. A very pretty little garden too. There were flower-beds in front, already gay with a few early blossoms, and neat rows of vegetables and fruit-bushes at the back. The cottage was built of wood, but looked warm and dry, with deep roof and rather small high-up windows. A little path, bordered primly by a thick growing mossy-like plant, led up to the door, which was closed. No smoke came out of the chimney, not the slightest sound was to be heard. The children looked at each other.
'What a darling little house!' said Maia in a whisper. 'But, Rollo, do you think there's anybody there? Can it be enchanted, perhaps?'
Rollo went on a few steps and stood looking at the mysterious cottage. There was not a sound to be heard, not the slightest sign of life about the place; and yet it was all in such perfect order that it was impossible to think it deserted.
'The people must have gone out, I suppose,' said Rollo.
'I wonder if the door is locked,' said Maia. 'I am so thirsty, Rollo.'
'Let's see,' Rollo answered, and together the two children opened the tiny gate and made their way up to the door. Rollo took hold of the latch; it yielded to his touch.
'It's not locked,' he said, looking back at his sister, and he gently pushed the door a little way open. 'Shall I go in?' he said.
Maia came forward, walking on her tiptoes.
'Oh, Rollo,' she whispered, 'suppose it's enchanted, and that we never get out again.'
But all the same she crept nearer and nearer to the tempting half-open door.
CHAPTER III.
THE MYSTERIOUS COTTAGE.
'"A pretty cottage 'tis indeed,"
Said Rosalind to Fanny,
"But yet it seems a little strange,
I trust there's naught uncanny."'
The Wood-Fairies.
Rollo pushed a little more, and still a little. No sound was heard—no voice demanded what they wanted; they gathered courage, till at last the door stood sufficiently ajar for them to see inside. It was a neat, plain, exceedingly clean, little kitchen which stood revealed to their view. Rollo and Maia, with another glance around them, another instant's hesitation, stepped in.
The floor was only sanded, the furniture was of plain unvarnished deal, yet there was something indescribably dainty and attractive about the room. There was no fire burning in the hearth, but all was ready laid for lighting it, and on the table, covered with a perfectly clean, though coarse cloth, plates and cups for a meal were set out. It seemed to be for three people. A loaf of brownish bread, and a jug filled with milk, were the only provisions to be seen. Maia stepped forward softly and looked longingly at the milk.
'Do you think it would be wrong to take some, Rollo?' she said. 'I am so thirsty, and they must be nice people that live here, it looks so neat.' But just then, catching sight of the three chairs drawn