The Happy Adventurers | Page 4

course I do," Mollie replied; "I'm a Girl Guide."
"I don't know what a Girl Guide is," said the other girl, wrinkling up
her pretty forehead, "but a Time-traveller has to vow on her faith and
honour never to say one single word about her adventures to any
grown-up, either here or there. You must not ask them questions that
will make them wonder things, however much you want to, because
they don't understand, and would be almost sure to interfere. Will you

vow?"
"Yes, I will, but you must give me one moment to think. Where shall I
travel to and how long shall I stay?"
"You come along with me to my Time; I don't know how long you will
stay. A year of our Time might be a minute of yours, or a minute of
ours might be a year of yours, but you will be all right. Have you ever
seen a dissolving view?"
"That's a magic lantern, isn't it? Yes, Dick once had one. I think they
are rather dull."
"Oh no, not if they are properly done. Hugh--" she stopped and then
began again. "You will step into a dissolving view of our Time. It just
begins and ends anyhow, and you go out of it again."
"But it's so _queer_," Mollie said doubtfully. "I never heard of such a
thing. I must be dreaming."
The other child shook her head. "No, you're not," she said patiently.
She looked around the room as though in search of inspiration, and her
eyes fell upon a volume of Shakespeare which Aunt Mary had been
reading: "Do you learn Shakespeare at your school?" she asked.
"Rather," Mollie answered, in a slightly superior voice; "I have acted in
six plays."
"Ah--then you remember what Hamlet says: 'There are more things in
Heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy'."
"We haven't done Hamlet yet," Mollie answered, in a less superior tone,
"I don't think I quite understand what that means."
"Neither do I," said the child. "That's it, you see. Papa says--" she
stopped short again, and then went on. "It's nearly time for me to
go--and I can never come back if you don't come this time," moving
away a few steps as she spoke.

"Oh, don't go--don't go," Mollie cried. "I do want to come; it won't do
anyone any harm, will it?"
The child smiled very sweetly: "Not the least in the world. But
remember the vow. On your faith and honour."
"I vow, I vow--on my word of honour as a Guide. I can't say more than
that."
"Give me your hand, then. Listen to the music, and shut your eyes till I
tell you to open them."
Mollie closed her eyes. She had a queer swimmy feeling, as if she were
in a high swing and were just swooping down to the lowest point. All
the time Aunt Mary's tunes went on, but they seemed to go farther and
farther away.
"Open," said a soft voice.
* * * * *
The darkened room had vanished, and the ticking clock; Aunt Mary's
tunes and the rain splashing on the window-panes; the sofa too, and the
prim child. And Mollie herself!
* * * * *
She was standing in a sunny road, with one foot on a white painted
wooden gate, upon which she had evidently been swinging. The gate
opened into a large garden, and before her lay a broad path planted on
either side with tall, pointed cypress trees, their thin shadows lying
across the walk like black bars. Between the trees ran narrow
flower-beds, and beyond these stretched a wide, open space, so solidly
spread with yellow dandelions that it looked as though the golden floor
of heaven had come to rest upon earth. The path, with its sentinel trees,
led straight as a rod to a distant house, long and low, surrounded by a
vine-covered veranda. There were strange, sweet smells in the air,
which felt soft and warm. The sky was brilliantly blue, and on the fence

across the road a gorgeous parrot sat preening its feathers in the
sunshine.
Mollie looked about her with curious eyes, wondering where she was.
Not in England, of that she was sure--there was a different feel in the
air, colours were brighter, scents were stronger, and that radiant parrot
would never perch itself so tranquilly upon an English fence.
Then she saw, coming down the path, a girl of about her own age,
dressed in a brown-holland overall trimmed with red braid, high to the
throat, and belted round the waist. She wore no hat, and her hair fell
over her shoulders in plump brown curls. By her side paced a large dog,
a rough-haired black-and-white collie with sagacious brown eyes.