side her;
you know it well, Marguerite."

Margaret could not refuse the offered company, and they set out in the
same direction that Peggy had taken. Margaret had been in the oak woods
several times with Peggy, and thought she might very likely find her
there; but no one answered her call; only the trees rustled, and the
hermit-thrush called in answer, deep in some thicket far away.
Presently, as they walked, there shot through the dark oak branches a
sunny gleam, a flash of green and gold. They pressed forward, and in
another moment stood on the edge of the quaking bog. But they had not
been warned; neither had they Peggy's practised eye, which would have
told her even without the warning that this was no safe place.

"Oh, what a lovely meadow!" cried Margaret. "I always wondered what lay
beyond these woods, but have never come so far before. Shall we cross
it, Rita? or does it look a little damp, do you think?"

"It may be damp," said Rita indifferently. "I care not for damp, _tres
chere_. Let us cross, by all means. And look! see the golden flower;
what can it be?"

"I don't know, I am sure!" said Margaret, gazing innocently at the
yellow muslin rose which had been under her hands only the day before.
"It looks--I don't know what it looks like, Rita. But I am afraid the
grass is very wet. Don't you see the wet shining through?"

"Pouf!" said Rita. "Wait thou here, faint heart, while I bring the
flower; that, at least, I must do, even if we go no further."

She stepped over the grass so lightly and quickly that she had gone some
steps before her feet began to sink in the black, oozy bog. Margaret
saw the water bubbling up behind her, and cried to her in alarm to come
back; and Rita, finding the earth plucking at her feet, turned willingly
toward the solid ground; but return was impossible. She tried to lift
her feet, but the bog held them fast, and with the effort, she felt
herself sinking, slowly but surely.

"Ah," she cried, "it is bad ground! It is a pit, Marguerite! Do not
move, do not come near me! Run and get help!" For Margaret was already
stepping forward with outstretched hands.

"Stop where you are!" cried Rita imperiously. "Do you not see that if
you come in, we are both lost? I tell you there is no ground here, no
bottom! I sink, I feel it sucking me down, down! Ah, _Madre_! go,
Marguerite, fly for help!"

Poor Margaret turned in distraction. Whither should she fly? They were
more than a mile fr