on all the while.

She followed blindly after the rest of the whirling crowd.

Away they went, always more and more,--away they went, clear out of
town and into the bare country,--away they went; and the Piper behind
them made his fife-notes shriller and louder, so that all could hear,
and they seemed to be carried along in spite of themselves.

It was like a race in a dream. Their feet seemed not to touch the
ground. The leaves rustled--no, the children chattered as they
fluttered--no, hurried along. Doris could catch little sentences here
and there; but they seemed to be in a strange tongue, and she did not
understand. But by and by she grew very familiar with the sounds, and,
strangely enough, she found she could make out the meaning of the queer
words.

"It 's German," she thought; "I know they're talking German;" and so
she listened very attentively.

"Sie ist eine Fremde," she heard one say to another; "sie gehoert nicht
zu uns,"--which she immediately knew meant: "She is a stranger; she
doesn't belong to us."

"Nein," replied the other; "aber sie scheint gut und brav zu sein." At
which Doris smiled; she liked to be thought "good and sweet."

On and on they went; and after a time things began to have a very
foreign look, and this startled Doris considerably.