"I tell you we did," Jane said. "There's a fairy there--all over brown
fur--with ears like a bat's and eyes like a snail's, and he gives you a
wish a day, and they all come true."

"Touched in the head, eh?" said the man in a low voice; "all the more
shame to you boys dragging the poor afflicted child into your sinful
burglaries."

"She's not mad; it's true," said Anthea; "there _is_ a fairy. If I ever
see him again I'll wish for something for you; at least I would if
vengeance wasn't wicked--so there!"

"Lor' lumme," said Billy Peasemarsh, "if there ain't another on 'em!"

And now Willum came back, with a spiteful grin on his face, and at his
back a policeman, with whom Mr. Peasemarsh spoke long in a hoarse
earnest whisper.

"I daresay you're right," said the policeman at last. "Anyway, I'll take
'em up on a charge of unlawful possession, pending inquiries. And the
magistrate will deal with the case. Send the afflicted ones to a home,
as likely as not, and the boys to a reformatory. Now then, come along,
youngsters! No use making a fuss. You bring the gells along, Mr.
Peasemarsh, sir, and I'll shepherd the boys."

Speechless with rage and horror, the four children were driven along the
streets of Rochester. Tears of anger and shame blinded them, so that
when Robert ran right into a passer-by he did not recognise her till a
well-known voice said, "Well, if ever I did! Oh, Master Robert, whatever
have you been a-doing of now?" And another voice, quite as well known,