"Nothing," said Tabitha. "That is, nothing except a hole."

"Feel at the bottom of your dress, there on the right. No, a little more
to the front. What do you feel there?"

"Something hard," said Tabitha.

"Take this knife and cut the lining of your dress where you feel the
hard thing. Ah! there is the silver shield which you have been carrying
about with you all these days."

The crowd murmured approval. Dorcas exclaimed: "Well, I never!" and
Thomas looked first puzzled, then angry, then suspicious.

"Does the Teacher think that the Floweret and the old doctor have made
a plot together?" asked Menzi. "Can a sweet Flower make plots and tell
lies like the old doctor? Well, well, it is nothing. Now let us try
something better. My bags, my bags."

Thomas made as though he would go away, but Menzi stopped him, saying:

"No, doubters must stay to see the end of their doubts. What shall I do?
Ah! I have it."

Then from one of the bags he drew out a number of crooked black sticks
that looked like bent ebony rulers, and built them up criss-cross in a
little pile upon the ground. Next he found some bundles of fine dried
grass, which he thrust into the interstices between the sticks, as he
did so bidding one of his servants to run to the nearest hut and bring a