own the long passage in the dark, guided only by the voice from time to
time heard before her, "Cuckoo, cuckoo."

She forgot all about the cold, or rather, she did not feel it, though
the floor was of uncarpeted old oak, whose hard, polished surface would
have usually felt like ice to a child's soft, bare feet. It was a very
long passage, and to-night, somehow, it seemed longer than ever. In
fact, Griselda could have fancied she had been running along it for half
a mile or more, when at last she was brought to a standstill by finding
she could go no further. Where was she? She could not imagine! It must
be a part of the house she had never explored in the daytime, she
decided. In front of her was a little stair running downwards, and
ending in a doorway. All this Griselda could see by a bright light that
streamed in by the keyhole and through the chinks round the door--a
light so brilliant that the little girl blinked her eyes, and for a
moment felt quite dazzled and confused.

"It came so suddenly," she said to herself; "some one must have lighted
a lamp in there all at once. But it can't be a lamp, it's too bright for
a lamp. It's more like the sun; but how ever could the sun be shining in
a room in the middle of the night? What shall I do? Shall I open the
door and peep in?"

"Cuckoo, cuckoo," came the answer, soft but clear, from the other side.

"Can it be a trick of the cuckoo's to get me out into the garden?"
thought Griselda; and for the first time since she had run out of her
room a shiver of cold made her teeth chatter and her skin feel creepy.

"Cuckoo, cuckoo," sounded again, nearer this time, it seemed to
Griselda.

"He's waiting for me. I _will_ trust him," she said resolutely. "He has
always been good and kind, and it's horrid of me to think he's going to
trick me."

She ran down the little stair, she seized the handle of the door. It
turned easily; the door opened--opened, and closed again noiselessly
behind her, and what do you think she saw?

"Shut your eyes for a minute, Griselda," said the cuckoo's voice beside
her; "the light will dazzle you at first. Shut them, and I will brush
them with a little daisy dew, to strengthen them."

Griselda did as she was told. She felt the tip of the cuckoo's softest
feather pass gently two or three times over her eyelids, and a delicious
scent seemed immediately to float before her.

"I didn't know _daisies_ had any scent," she remarked.

"Perhaps you d