I don't think half a century had made much difference to the interior. The ancient laurel trunks rose as be-
{ore forming dim isles and passages beneath the foliage. Perhaps little Princess Elizabeth (her father Henry YW gave her the house, having stolen it from the monks of Glastonbury), escaping from her governors and governesses had slipped in here to play at make-believe four centuries ago, I expect she did, though I really do not know the age of the hedge. But to judge from the little change that had been effected during my own life time I imagine it must be very old.
I had to stoop a bit here and there under the roof of twigs, but then one is naturally taller at 50 than at seven. I wandered thus for some distance towards the robber's lair. You couldn't very well miss it because it was such a fine lair, and when I got there the little boy suddenly popped up and said "Hullo!"
"Hullo!" I replied, I had quite forgotten about him. In fact since seeing the old lady I had not thought of anything else. It was natural that T should have come here to this safe retreat after such a staggering interview. Tomorrow morning! Of course I had no very clear conception of what tomorrow morning would bring, or exactly in what way it would revolutionize my existence: but still the old lady had gripped my hand very tight, and tears had splashed down her faded cheeks, and all that suggested things. I was disturbed: and what more fitting place for a small disturbed robber than this cool dim lair in he depths of the laurel hedge? "Hullo!" I said, "Are you a robber?' 4 "No," he replied, "I am a pirate."
"Well, that is much the same thing. don't you think?"
"Perhaps. But I like pirates best."
^I think I do too," I agreed, falling in with his mood. "Have you got the weapon?"
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.