But if he went back the others would laugh at him and call him a baby.
He could not stand that. He was not a baby, but a boy who would one
day be a man and do great deeds. So he went on. Trying hard not to
think of the elder-bush, Walter went bravely along, looking for the
necklace. But still he could not help knowing that he was getting
nearer to the dreaded spot. O, if he could but see those pink beads he
would seize them and run!

He saw them at last, when he had nearly reached the tree. With mingled
joy and fear he took a step forward and stopped to pick up the
necklace when suddenly there was a rustling sound among the
elder-branches and a hand reached out to part them, a hand belonging
to a white figure. That was all Walter knew. With a cry of terror he
rushed forward, not looking where he was going. Then he tripped and
fell, and lay quite still. He was still unconscious when, an hour
later, Sydney's mother bent over him anxiously. He had struck his head
on the stones bordering the path, and there was waiting till the
doctor came to know the extent of the injury.

Nurse told how the little boy had gone to look for Madge's necklace,
and cook explained how she had been gathering elder-berries to make
wine and, hearing footsteps, had come out from the thick branches.
Just as she saw Master Walter he gave a scream and ran away as if
frightened. But what could have terrified him she could not think.

[Illustration:]

Sydney looked at his mother's distressed face and at the little figure
lying on the bed. _He_ knew what had made Walter afraid, and he did
not like afterwards to think of what he felt during the half-hour