e. If he
tries to, you must fly at him and scold him and peck him."

"Who is Dudu?" said Hugh, as they were running back to the house
together along the snowy garden path.

"He is----" began Jeanne. "Hush," she went on, in a lower voice, "there
he is! I do believe he heard what I said, and he's angry." For right
before them on the path stood the old raven, on one leg as usual, though
this it was too dark to see clearly. And, as Jeanne spoke, he gave a
sharp, sudden croak, which made both the children jump, and then
deliberately hopped away.

"He's a raven!" said Hugh with surprise. "Why, what funny pets you have,
Jeanne!"

Jeanne laughed.

"Dudu isn't my pet," she said. "I don't like him. To tell you the truth,
Cheri, I'm rather frightened of him. I think he's a sort of a fairy."

Hugh looked much impressed, but not at all surprised.

"Do you really, Jeanne?" he said.

"Yes," she said, "I do. And I'm not _sure_ but that Grignan is too. At
least I think Grignan is enchanted, and that Dudu is the spiteful fairy
that did it. Grignan is the tortoise, you know."

"Yes," said Hugh, "you told me about him. I do wonder if what you think
is true," he added reflectively. "We must try to find out, Jeanne."

"But we mustn't offend Dudu," said Jeanne. "He might, you know, turn
_us_ into something--two little mice, perhaps--that wouldn't be very
nice, would it, Cheri?"

"I don't know," Hugh replied. "I wouldn't mind for a little, if he would
turn us back again. We could get into such funny places and see such
funny things--couldn't we, Jeanne?"

They both laughed merrily at the idea, and were still laughing when they
ran against Marcelline at the door which they had left open at the end
of the tonnelle.

"My children!" she exclaimed. "Monsieur Cheri and Mademoiselle Jeanne!
Where have you been? And in the snow too! Who would have thought it?"

Her tone was anxious, but not cross. She hurried them in to the warm
fire, however, and carefully examined their feet to make sure that their
shoes and stockings were not wet.

"Marcelline is very kind," said Hugh, fixing his soft blue eyes on the
old nurse in surprise. "At home, grandmamma's maid would have scolded me
dreadfully if I had run out in the snow."

"Yes," said Jeanne, flinging her arms round the old nurse's neck, and
giving her a kiss first on one cheek then on the other; "she is very
kind. Nice little old Marcelline."

"Perhaps," said Hugh, meditatively, "she