leasant
to walk along the bed of the stream, as far as the entrance to the bog
meadow. Could she venture so far? No, for after all, it was possible
that some of the workmen might have arrived and might be in the
neighbourhood, though they were not to begin work till the next day.
Very slowly Margaret drew her feet out of the clear stream where they
twinkled and looked so white,--Margaret had pretty feet,--but she could
not make up her mind to put on the shoes and stockings just yet. She
must dry her feet; and this moss was delightful to walk on. So on she
went, treading lightly and carefully, finding every step a pure
pleasure, till she saw sunlight breaking through the green, and knew
that she was coming to the edge of the peat bog. Ah, what memories this
place brought to Margaret's mind! She could see her cousin Rita,
springing out in merry defiance over the treacherous green meadow; could
hear her scream, and see her sinking deep, deep, into the dreadful
blackness below. Then, like a flash, came Peggy from the wood, this very
wood she was walking in now, and ran, and crept, and reached out, and by
sheer strength and cleverness saved Rita from a dreadful death, while
she, Margaret, stood helpless by. Dear, brave Peggy! Ah, dear girls
both! How she would like to see them this moment. Why! Why, what was
that?

Some one was whistling out there in the open. Whistling a lively,
rollicking air, with a note as clear and strong as a bird's. Horror! The
workmen must have come! Margaret was down on the grass in an instant,
pulling desperately at her shoes and stockings. From the panic she was
in, one might have thought that the woods were full of whistling
brigands, all rushing in her direction, with murder in their hearts. She
could hardly see; there was a knot in her shoe-string; why did she ever
have shoes that tied? Her heart was beating, the blood throbbing in her
ears,--and all the time the whistling went on, not coming nearer, but
trilling away in perfect cheerfulness, though broken now and then, and
coming in fits and starts. At last! At last the shoes were tied, and
Margaret stood up, still panting and crimson, but feeling that she could
face a robber, or even an innocent workman, without being disgraced for
life. Cautiously she stole to the edge of the wood, and peeped between
the pine-boles. The sun lay full on the peat bog, and it shone like a
great, sunny emerald, friendly and smiling, with no hint of the black
tr