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This
reassuring
thought
would
have
been
enough
to
keep
Sophie
walking
all
night
,
had
not
a
sudden
familiar
uneasiness
swept
over
her
.
Her
ears
had
caught
a
distant
tock
,
tock
,
tock
.
She
looked
sharply
under
the
low
sun
.
And
there
,
on
the
road
which
wound
away
behind
the
stone
gate
,
was
a
distant
figure
with
outstretched
arms
,
hopping
,
hopping
.
Sophie
picked
up
her
skirts
,
whirled
around
,
and
sped
back
the
way
she
had
come
.
Dust
and
gravel
flew
up
round
her
in
clouds
.
Percival
was
standing
forlornly
in
the
drive
beside
the
bucket
and
the
watering
can
.
Sophie
seized
him
and
dragged
him
behind
the
nearest
tree
.
Is
something
wrong
?
he
said
.
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Quiet
!
It
s
that
dratted
scarecrow
again
,
Sophie
gasped
.
She
shut
her
eyes
.
We
re
not
here
,
she
said
.
You
can
t
find
us
.
Go
away
.
Go
away
fast
,
fast
,
fast
!
But
why
?
said
Percival
.
Shut
up
!
Not
here
,
not
here
,
not
here
!
Sophie
said
desperately
.
She
opened
one
eye
.
The
scarecrow
,
almost
between
the
gateposts
,
was
standing
still
,
swaying
uncertainly
.
That
s
right
,
said
Sophie
.
We
re
not
here
.
Go
away
fast
.
Twice
as
fast
,
three
times
as
fast
,
ten
times
as
fast
.
Go
away
!
And
the
scarecrow
hesitantly
swayed
round
on
its
stick
and
began
to
hop
back
up
the
road
.
After
the
first
few
hops
it
was
going
in
giant
leaps
,
faster
and
faster
,
just
as
Sophie
had
told
it
to
.
Sophie
hardly
breathed
,
and
did
not
let
go
of
Percival
s
sleeve
until
the
scarecrow
was
out
of
sight
.
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What
s
wrong
with
it
?
said
Percival
.
Why
didn
t
you
want
it
?
Sophie
shuddered
.
Since
the
scarecrow
was
out
on
the
road
,
she
did
not
dare
leave
now
.
She
picked
up
the
watering
can
and
stumped
back
to
the
mansion
.
A
fluttering
caught
her
eye
as
she
went
.
She
looked
up
at
the
building
.
The
flutter
was
from
long
white
curtains
blowing
from
an
open
French
window
beyond
the
statues
of
the
terrace
.
The
statues
were
now
clean
white
stone
,
and
she
could
see
curtains
at
most
of
the
windows
,
and
glass
too
.
The
shutters
were
now
folded
properly
beside
them
,
newly
painted
white
.
Not
a
green
stain
nor
a
blister
marked
the
new
creamy
plaster
of
the
house
front
.
The
front
door
was
a
masterpiece
of
black
paint
and
gold
scrollwork
,
centering
on
a
gilded
lion
with
a
ring
in
its
mouth
for
a
doorknocker
.