PETER AND WENDY

[Illustration: THE NEVER NEVER LAND]

[Illustration: PETER AND WENDY

BY J. M. BARRIE

ILLUSTRATED BY F. D. BEDFORD

NEW YORK

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS]

CONTENTS

 PAGECHAPTER I

PETER BREAKS THROUGH 1

CHAPTER II

THE SHADOW 17

CHAPTER III

COME AWAY, COME AWAY! 34

CHAPTER IV

THE FLIGHT 58

CHAPTER V

THE ISLAND COME TRUE 75

CHAPTER VI

THE LITTLE HOUSE 94

CHAPTER VII

THE HOME UNDER THE GROUND 110

CHAPTER VIII

THE MERMAIDS' LAGOON 122

CHAPTER IX

THE NEVER BIRD 144

CHAPTER X

THE HAPPY HOME 150

CHAPTER XI

WENDY'S STORY 162

CHAPTER XII

THE CHILDREN ARE CARRIED OFF 176

CHAPTER XIII

DO YOU BELIEVE IN FAIRIES? 185

CHAPTER XIV

THE PIRATE SHIP 201

CHAPTER XV

'HOOK OR ME THIS TIME' 214

CHAPTER XVI

THE RETURN HOME 232

CHAPTER XVII

WHEN WENDY GREW UP 248

CHAPTER I

PETER BREAKS THROUGH

All children, except one, grow up. They soon know that they will growup, and the way Wendy knew was this. One day when she was two years oldshe was playing in a garden, and she plucked another flower and ran withit to her mother. I suppose she must have looked rather delightful, forMrs. Darling put her hand to her heart and cried, 'Oh, why can't youremain like this for ever!' This was all that passed between them on thesubject, but henceforth Wendy knew that she must grow up. You alwaysknow after you are two. Two is the beginning of the end. 

Of course they lived at 14, and until Wendy came her mother was thechief one. She was a lovely lady, with a romantic mind and such a sweetmocking mouth. Her romantic mind was like the tiny boxes, one within theother, that come from the puzzling East, however many you discover thereis always one more; and her sweet mocking mouth had one kiss on it thatWendy could never get, though there it was, perfectly conspicuous in theright-hand corner. 

The way Mr. Darling won her was this: the many gentlemen who had beenboys when she was a girl discovered simultaneously that they loved her, and they all ran to her house to propose to her except Mr. Darling, whotook a cab and nipped in first, and so he got her. He got all of her, except the innermost box and the kiss. He never knew about the box, andin time he gave up trying for the kiss. Wendy thought Napoleon couldhave got it, but I can picture him trying, and then going off in apassion, slamming the door. 

Mr. Darling used to boast to Wendy that her mother not only loved himbut respected him. He was one of those deep ones who know about stocksand shares. Of course no one really knows, but he quite seemed to know, and he often said stocks were up and shares were down in a way thatwould have made any woman respect him. 

Mrs. Darling was married in white, and at first she kept the booksperfectly, almost gleefully, as if it were a game, not so much as abrussels sprout was missing; but by and by whole cauliflowers droppedout, and instead of them there were pictures of babies without faces. She drew them when she should have been totting up. They were Mrs. Darling's guesses. 

Wendy came first, then John, then Michael. 

For a week or two after Wendy came it was doubtful whether they would beable to keep her, as she was another mouth to feed. Mr. Darling wasfrightfully proud of her, but he was very honourable, and he sat on theedge of Mrs. Darling's bed, holding her hand and calculating expenses, while she looked at him imploringly. She wanted to risk it, come whatmight, but that was not his way; his way was with a pencil and a pieceof paper, and if she confused him with suggestions he had to begin atthe beginning again. 

'Now don't interrupt, ' he would beg of her. 'I have one pound seventeenhere, and two and six at the office; I can cut off my coffee at theoffice, say ten shillings, making two nine and six, with your eighteenand three makes three nine seven, with five naught naught in mycheque-book makes eight nine seven, --who is that moving?--eight nineseven, dot and carry seven--don't speak, my own--and the pound you lentto that man who came to the door--quiet, child--dot and carrychild--there, you've done it!--did I say nine nine seven? yes, I saidnine nine seven; the question is, can we try it for a year on nine nineseven?'

'Of course we can, George, ' she cried. But she was prejudiced in Wendy'sfavour, and he was really the grander character of the two. 

'Remember mumps, ' he warned her almost threateningly, and off he wentagain. 'Mumps one pound, that is what I have put down, but I daresay itwill be more like thirty shillings--don't speak--measles one five, German measles half a guinea, makes two fifteen six--don't waggle yourfinger--whooping-cough, say fifteen shillings'--and so on it went, andit added up differently each time; but at last Wendy just got through, with mumps reduced to twelve six, and the two kinds of measles treatedas one. 

There was the same excitement over John, and Michael had even a narrowersqueak; but both were kept, and soon you might have seen the three ofthem going in a row to Miss Fulsom's Kindergarten school, accompanied bytheir nurse. 

Mrs. Darling loved to have everything just so, and Mr. Darling had apassion for being exactly like his neighbours; so, of course, they had anurse. As they were poor, owing to the amount of milk the childrendrank, this nurse was a prim Newfoundland dog, called Nana, who hadbelonged to no one in particular until the Darlings engaged her. She hadalways thought children important, however, and the Darlings had becomeacquainted with her in Kensington Gardens, where she spent most of herspare time peeping into perambulators, and was much hated by carelessnursemaids, whom she followed to their homes and complained of to theirmistresses. She proved to be quite a treasure of a nurse. How thoroughshe was at bath-time; and up at any moment of the night if one of hercharges made the slightest cry. Of course her kennel was in the nursery. She had a genius for knowing when a cough is a thing to have no patiencewith and when it needs stocking round your throat. She believed to herlast day in old-fashioned remedies like rhubarb leaf, and made sounds ofcontempt over all this new-fangled talk about germs, and so on. It was alesson in propriety to see her escorting the children to school, walkingsedately by their side when they were well behaved, and butting themback into line if they strayed. On John's footer days she never onceforgot his sweater, and she usually carried an umbrella in her mouth incase of rain. There is a room in the basement of Miss Fulsom's schoolwhere the nurses wait. They sat on forms, while Nana lay on the floor, but that was the only difference. They affected to ignore her as of aninferior social status to themselves, and she despised their light talk. She resented visits to the nursery from Mrs. Darling's friends, but ifthey did come she first whipped off Michael's pinafore and put him intothe one with blue braiding, and smoothed out Wendy and made a dash atJohn's hair. 

No nursery could possibly have been conducted more correctly, and Mr. Darling knew it, yet he sometimes wondered uneasily whether theneighbours talked. 

He had his position in the city to consider. 

Nana also troubled him in another way. He had sometimes a feeling thatshe did not admire him. 'I know she admires you tremendously, George, 'Mrs. Darling would assure him, and then she would sign to the childrento be specially nice to father. Lovely dances followed, in which theonly other servant, Liza, was sometimes allowed to join. Such a midgetshe looked in her long skirt and maid's cap, though she had sworn, whenengaged, that she would never see ten again. The gaiety of those romps!And gayest of all was Mrs. Darling, who would pirouette so wildly thatall you could see of her was the kiss, and then if you had dashed at heryou might have got it. There never was a simpler happier family untilthe coming of Peter Pan. 

Mrs. Darling first heard of Peter when she was tidying up her children'sminds. It is the nightly custom of every good mother after her childrenare asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for nextmorning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that havewandered during the day. If you could keep awake (but of course youcan't) you would see your own mother doing this, and you would find itvery interesting to watch her. It is quite like tidying up drawers. Youwould see her on her knees, I expect, lingering humorously over some ofyour contents, wondering where on earth you had picked this thing up, making discoveries sweet and not so sweet, pressing this to her cheek asif it were as nice as a kitten, and hurriedly stowing that out of sight. When you wake in the morning, the naughtinesses and evil passions withwhich you went to bed have been folded up small and placed at the bottomof your mind; and on the top, beautifully aired, are spread out yourprettier thoughts, ready for you to put on. 

I don't know whether you have ever seen a map of a person's mind. Doctors sometimes draw maps of other parts of you, and your own map canbecome intensely interesting, but catch them trying to draw a map of achild's mind, which is not only confused, but keeps going round all thetime. There are zigzag lines on it, just like your temperature on acard, and these are probably roads in the island; for the Neverland isalways more or less an island, with astonishing splashes of colour hereand there, and coral reefs and rakish-looking craft in the offing, andsavages and lonely lairs, and gnomes who are mostly tailors, and cavesthrough which a river runs, and princes with six elder brothers, and ahut fast going to decay, and one very small old lady with a hooked nose. It would be an easy map if that were all; but there is also first day atschool, religion, fathers, the round pond, needlework, murders, hangings, verbs that take the dative, chocolate pudding day, gettinginto braces, say ninety-nine, three-pence for pulling out your toothyourself, and so on; and either these are part of the island or they areanother map showing through, and it is all rather confusing, especiallyas nothing will stand still. 

Of course the Neverlands vary a good deal. John's, for instance, had alagoon with flamingoes flying over it at which John was shooting, whileMichael, who was very small, had a flamingo with lagoons flying over it. John lived in a boat turned upside down on the sands, Michael in awigwam, Wendy in a house of leaves deftly sewn together. John had nofriends, Michael had friends at night, Wendy had a pet wolf forsaken byits parents; but on the whole the Neverlands have a family resemblance, and if they stood still in a row you could say of them that they haveeach other's nose, and so forth. On these magic shores children at playare for ever beaching their coracles. We too have been there; we canstill hear the sound of the surf, though we shall land no more. 

Of all delectable islands the Neverland is the snuggest and mostcompact; not large and sprawly, you know, with tedious distances betweenone adventure and another, but nicely crammed. When you play at it byday with the chairs and table-cloth, it is not in the least alarming, but in the two minutes before you go to sleep it becomes very nearlyreal. That is why there are night-lights. 

Occasionally in her travels through her children's minds Mrs. Darlingfound things she could not understand, and of these quite the mostperplexing was the word Peter. She knew of no Peter, and yet he was hereand there in John and Michael's minds, while Wendy's began to bescrawled all over with him. The name stood out in bolder letters thanany of the other words, and as Mrs. Darling gazed she felt that it hadan oddly cocky appearance. 

'Yes, he is rather cocky, ' Wendy admitted with regret. Her mother hadbeen questioning her. 

'But who is he, my pet?'

'He is Peter Pan, you know, mother. '

At first Mrs. Darling did not know, but after thinking back into herchildhood she just remembered a Peter Pan who was said to live with thefairies. There were odd stories about him; as that when children died hewent part of the way with them, so that they should not be frightened. She had believed in him at the time, but now that she was married andfull of sense she quite doubted whether there was any such person. 

'Besides, ' she said to Wendy, 'he would be grown up by this time. '

'Oh no, he isn't grown up, ' Wendy assured her confidently, 'and he isjust my size. ' She meant that he was her size in both mind and body; shedidn't know how she knew it, she just knew it. 

Mrs. Darling consulted Mr. Darling, but he smiled pooh-pooh. 'Mark mywords, ' he said, 'it is some nonsense Nana has been putting into theirheads; just the sort of idea a dog would have. Leave it alone, and itwill blow over. '

But it would not blow over; and soon the troublesome boy gave Mrs. Darling quite a shock. 

Children have the strangest adventures without being troubled by them. For instance, they may remember to mention, a week after the eventhappened, that when they were in the wood they met their dead father andhad a game with him. It was in this casual way that Wendy one morningmade a disquieting revelation. Some leaves of a tree had been found onthe nursery floor, which certainly were not there when the childrenwent to bed, and Mrs. Darling was puzzling over them when Wendy saidwith a tolerant smile:

'I do believe it is that Peter again!'

'Whatever do you mean, Wendy?'

'It is so naughty of him not to wipe, ' Wendy said, sighing. She was atidy child. 

She explained in quite a matter-of-fact way that she thought Petersometimes came to the nursery in the night and sat on the foot of herbed and played on his pipes to her. Unfortunately she never woke, so shedidn't know how she knew, she just knew. 

'What nonsense you talk, precious. No one can get into the house withoutknocking. '

'I think he comes in by the window, ' she said. 

'My love, it is three floors up. '

'Were not the leaves at the foot of the window, mother?'

It was quite true; the leaves had been found very near the window. 

Mrs. Darling did not know what to think, for it all seemed so natural toWendy that you could not dismiss it by saying she had been dreaming. 

'My child, ' the mother cried, 'why did you not tell me of this before?'

'I forgot, ' said Wendy lightly. She was in a hurry to get her breakfast. 

Oh, surely she must have been dreaming. 

But, on the other hand, there were the leaves. Mrs. Darling examinedthem carefully; they were skeleton leaves, but she was sure they did notcome from any tree that grew in England. She crawled about the floor, peering at it with a candle for marks of a strange foot. She rattled thepoker up the chimney and tapped the walls. She let down a tape from thewindow to the pavement, and it was a sheer drop of thirty feet, withoutso much as a spout to climb up by. 

Certainly Wendy had been dreaming. 

But Wendy had not been dreaming, as the very next night showed, thenight on which the extraordinary adventures of these children may besaid to have begun. 

On the night we speak of all the children were once more in bed. Ithappened to be Nana's evening off, and Mrs. Darling had bathed them andsung to them till one by one they had let go her hand and slid awayinto the land of sleep. 

All were looking so safe and cosy that she smiled at her fears now andsat down tranquilly by the fire to sew. 

It was something for Michael, who on his birthday was getting intoshirts. The fire was warm, however, and the nursery dimly lit by threenight-lights, and presently the sewing lay on Mrs. Darling's lap. Thenher head nodded, oh, so gracefully. She was asleep. Look at the four ofthem, Wendy and Michael over there, John here, and Mrs. Darling by thefire. There should have been a fourth night-light. 

While she slept she had a dream. She dreamt that the Neverland had cometoo near and that a strange boy had broken through from it. He did notalarm her, for she thought she had seen him before in the faces of manywomen who have no children. Perhaps he is to be found in the faces ofsome mothers also. But in her dream he had rent the film that obscuresthe Neverland, and she saw Wendy and John and Michael peeping throughthe gap. 

The dream by itself would have been a trifle, but while she wasdreaming the window of the nursery blew open, and a boy did drop on thefloor. He was accompanied by a strange light, no bigger than your fist, which darted about the room like a living thing; and I think it musthave been this light that wakened Mrs. Darling. 

She started up with a cry, and saw the boy, and somehow she knew at oncethat he was Peter Pan. If you or I or Wendy had been there we shouldhave seen that he was very like Mrs. Darling's kiss. He was a lovelyboy, clad in skeleton leaves and the juices that ooze out of trees; butthe most entrancing thing about him was that he had all his first teeth. When he saw she was a grown-up, he gnashed the little pearls at her. 

CHAPTER II

THE SHADOW

Mrs. Darling screamed, and, as if in answer to a bell, the door opened, and Nana entered, returned from her evening out. She growled and sprangat the boy, who leapt lightly through the window. Again Mrs. Darlingscreamed, this time in distress for him, for she thought he was killed, and she ran down into the street to look for his little body, but it wasnot there; and she looked up, and in the black night she could seenothing but what she thought was a shooting star. 

She returned to the nursery, and found Nana with something in her mouth, which proved to be the boy's shadow. As he leapt at the window Nana hadclosed it quickly, too late to catch him, but his shadow had not hadtime to get out; slam went the window and snapped it off. 

You may be sure Mrs. Darling examined the shadow carefully, but it wasquite the ordinary kind. 

Nana had no doubt of what was the best thing to do with this shadow. Shehung it out at the window, meaning 'He is sure to come back for it; letus put it where he can get it easily without disturbing the children. '

But unfortunately Mrs. Darling could not leave it hanging out at thewindow; it looked so like the washing and lowered the whole tone of thehouse. She thought of showing it to Mr. Darling, but he was totting upwinter greatcoats for John and Michael, with a wet towel round his headto keep his brain clear, and it seemed a shame to trouble him; besides, she knew exactly what he would say: 'It all comes of having a dog for anurse. '

She decided to roll the shadow up and put it away carefully in a drawer, until a fitting opportunity came for telling her husband. Ah me!

The opportunity came a week later, on that never-to-be-forgottenFriday. Of course it was a Friday. 

'I ought to have been specially careful on a Friday, ' she used to sayafterwards to her husband, while perhaps Nana was on the other side ofher, holding her hand. 

'No, no, ' Mr. Darling always said, 'I am responsible for it all. I, George Darling, did it. _Mea culpa, mea culpa. _' He had had a classicaleducation. 

They sat thus night after night recalling that fatal Friday, till everydetail of it was stamped on their brains and came through on the otherside like the faces on a bad coinage. 

'If only I had not accepted that invitation to dine at 27, ' Mrs. Darlingsaid. 

'If only I had not poured my medicine into Nana's bowl, ' said Mr. Darling. 

'If only I had pretended to like the medicine, ' was what Nana's wet eyessaid. 

'My liking for parties, George. '

'My fatal gift of humour, dearest. '

'My touchiness about trifles, dear master and mistress. '

Then one or more of them would break down altogether; Nana at thethought, 'It's true, it's true, they ought not to have had a dog for anurse. ' Many a time it was Mr. Darling who put the handkerchief toNana's eyes. 

'That fiend!' Mr. Darling would cry, and Nana's bark was the echo of it, but Mrs. Darling never upbraided Peter; there was something in theright-hand corner of her mouth that wanted her not to call Peter names. 

They would sit there in the empty nursery, recalling fondly everysmallest detail of that dreadful evening. It had begun so uneventfully, so precisely like a hundred other evenings, with Nana putting on thewater for Michael's bath and carrying him to it on her back. 

'I won't go to bed, ' he had shouted, like one who still believed that hehad the last word on the subject, 'I won't, I won't. Nana, it isn't sixo'clock yet. Oh dear, oh dear, I shan't love you any more, Nana. I tellyou I won't be bathed, I won't, I won't!'

Then Mrs. Darling had come in, wearing her white evening-gown. She haddressed early because Wendy so loved to see her in her evening-gown, with the necklace George had given her. She was wearing Wendy'sbracelet on her arm; she had asked for the loan of it. Wendy so loved tolend her bracelet to her mother. 

She had found her two older children playing at being herself and fatheron the occasion of Wendy's birth, and John was saying:

'I am happy to inform you, Mrs. Darling, that you are now a mother, ' injust such a tone as Mr. Darling himself may have used on the realoccasion. 

Wendy had danced with joy, just as the real Mrs. Darling must have done. 

Then John was born, with the extra pomp that he conceived due to thebirth of a male, and Michael came from his bath to ask to be born also, but John said brutally that they did not want any more. 

Michael had nearly cried. 'Nobody wants me, ' he said, and of course thelady in evening-dress could not stand that. 

'I do, ' she said, 'I so want a third child. '

'Boy or girl?' asked Michael, not too hopefully. 

'Boy. '

Then he had leapt into her arms. Such a little thing for Mr. And Mrs. Darling and Nana to recall now, but not so little if that was to beMichael's last night in the nursery. 

They go on with their recollections. 

'It was then that I rushed in like a tornado, wasn't it?' Mr. Darlingwould say, scorning himself; and indeed he had been like a tornado. 

Perhaps there was some excuse for him. He, too, had been dressing forthe party, and all had gone well with him until he came to his tie. Itis an astounding thing to have to tell, but this man, though he knewabout stocks and shares, had no real mastery of his tie. Sometimes thething yielded to him without a contest, but there were occasions when itwould have been better for the house if he had swallowed his pride andused a made-up tie. 

This was such an occasion. He came rushing into the nursery with thecrumpled little brute of a tie in his hand. 

'Why, what is the matter, father dear?'

'Matter!' he yelled; he really yelled. 'This tie, it will not tie. ' Hebecame dangerously sarcastic. 'Not round my neck! Round the bed-post! Ohyes, twenty times have I made it up round the bed-post, but round myneck, no! Oh dear no! begs to be excused!'

He thought Mrs. Darling was not sufficiently impressed, and he went onsternly, 'I warn you of this, mother, that unless this tie is round myneck we don't go out to dinner to-night, and if I don't go out to dinnerto-night, I never go to the office again, and if I don't go to theoffice again, you and I starve, and our children will be flung into thestreets. '

Even then Mrs. Darling was placid. 'Let me try, dear, ' she said, andindeed that was what he had come to ask her to do; and with her nicecool hands she tied his tie for him, while the children stood around tosee their fate decided. Some men would have resented her being able todo it so easily, but Mr. Darling was far too fine a nature for that; hethanked her carelessly, at once forgot his rage, and in another momentwas dancing round the room with Michael on his back. 

'How wildly we romped!' says Mrs. Darling now, recalling it. 

'Our last romp!' Mr. Darling groaned. 

'O George, do you remember Michael suddenly said to me, "How did youget to know me, mother?"'

'I remember!'

'They were rather sweet, don't you think, George?'

'And they were ours, ours, and now they are gone. '

The romp had ended with the appearance of Nana, and most unluckily Mr. Darling collided against her, covering his trousers with hairs. Theywere not only new trousers, but they were the first he had ever had withbraid on them, and he had to bite his lip to prevent the tears coming. Of course Mrs. Darling brushed him, but he began to talk again about itsbeing a mistake to have a dog for a nurse. 

'George, Nana is a treasure. '

'No doubt, but I have an uneasy feeling at times that she looks upon thechildren as puppies. '

'Oh no, dear one, I feel sure she knows they have souls. '

'I wonder, ' Mr. Darling said thoughtfully, 'I wonder. ' It was anopportunity, his wife felt, for telling him about the boy. At first hepooh-poohed the story, but he became thoughtful when she showed him theshadow. 

'It is nobody I know, ' he said, examining it carefully, 'but he doeslook a scoundrel. '

'We were still discussing it, you remember, ' says Mr. Darling, 'whenNana came in with Michael's medicine. You will never carry the bottle inyour mouth again, Nana, and it is all my fault. 

Strong man though he was, there is no doubt that he had behaved ratherfoolishly over the medicine. If he had a weakness, it was for thinkingthat all his life he had taken medicine boldly; and so now, when Michaeldodged the spoon in Nana's mouth, he had said reprovingly, 'Be a man, Michael. '

'Won't; won't, ' Michael cried naughtily. Mrs. Darling left the room toget a chocolate for him, and Mr. Darling thought this showed want offirmness. 

'Mother, don't pamper him, ' he called after her. 'Michael, when I wasyour age I took medicine without a murmur. I said "Thank you, kindparents, for giving me bottles to make me well. "'

He really thought this was true, and Wendy, who was now in hernight-gown, believed it also, and she said, to encourage Michael, 'Thatmedicine you sometimes take, father, is much nastier, isn't it?'

'Ever so much nastier, 'Mr. Darling said bravely, 'and I would take itnow as an example to you, Michael, if I hadn't lost the bottle. '

He had not exactly lost it; he had climbed in the dead of night to thetop of the wardrobe and hidden it there. What he did not know was thatthe faithful Liza had found it, and put it back on his wash-stand. 

'I know where it is, father, ' Wendy cried, always glad to be of service. 'I'll bring it, ' and she was off before he could stop her. Immediatelyhis spirits sank in the strangest way. 

'John, ' he said, shuddering, 'it's most beastly stuff. It's that nasty, sticky, sweet kind. '

'It will soon be over, father, ' John said cheerily, and then in rushedWendy with the medicine in a glass. 

'I have been as quick as I could, ' she panted. 

'You have been wonderfully quick, ' her father retorted, with avindictive politeness that was quite thrown away upon her. 'Michaelfirst, ' he said doggedly. 

'Father first, ' said Michael, who was of a suspicious nature. 

'I shall be sick, you know, ' Mr. Darling said threateningly. 

'Come on, father, ' said John. 

'Hold your tongue, John, ' his father rapped out. 

Wendy was quite puzzled. 'I thought you took it quite easily, father. '

'That is not the point, ' he retorted. 'The point is, that there is morein my glass than in Michael's spoon. ' His proud heart was nearlybursting. 'And it isn't fair; I would say it though it were with my lastbreath; it isn't fair. '

'Father, I am waiting, ' said Michael coldly. 

'It's all very well to say you are waiting; so am I waiting. '

'Father's a cowardy custard. '

'So are you a cowardy custard. '

'I'm not frightened. '

'Neither am I frightened. '

'Well, then, take it. '

'Well, then, you take it. '

Wendy had a splendid idea. 'Why not both take it at the same time?'

'Certainly, ' said Mr. Darling. 'Are you ready, Michael?'

Wendy gave the words, one, two, three, and Michael took his medicine, but Mr. Darling slipped his behind his back. 

There was a yell of rage from Michael, and 'O father!' Wendy exclaimed. 

'What do you mean by "O father"?' Mr. Darling demanded. 'Stop that row, Michael. I meant to take mine, but I--I missed it. '

It was dreadful the way all the three were looking at him, just as ifthey did not admire him. 'Look here, all of you, ' he said entreatingly, as soon as Nana had gone into the bathroom, 'I have just thought of asplendid joke. I shall pour my medicine into Nana's bowl, and she willdrink it, thinking it is milk!'

It was the colour of milk; but the children did not have their father'ssense of humour, and they looked at him reproachfully as he poured themedicine into Nana's bowl. 'What fun, ' he said doubtfully, and they didnot dare expose him when Mrs. Darling and Nana returned. 

'Nana, good dog, ' he said, patting her, 'I have put a little milk intoyour bowl, Nana. '

Nana wagged her tail, ran to the medicine, and began lapping it. Thenshe gave Mr. Darling such a look, not an angry look: she showed him thegreat red tear that makes us so sorry for noble dogs, and crept into herkennel. 

Mr. Darling was frightfully ashamed of himself, but he would not givein. In a horrid silence Mrs. Darling smelt the bowl. 'O George, ' shesaid, 'it's your medicine!'

'It was only a joke, ' he roared, while she comforted her boys, and Wendyhugged Nana. 'Much good, ' he said bitterly, 'my wearing myself to thebone trying to be funny in this house. '

And still Wendy hugged Nana. 'That's right, ' he shouted. 'Coddle her!Nobody coddles me. Oh dear no! I am only the breadwinner, why should Ibe coddled, why, why, why!'

'George, ' Mrs. Darling entreated him, 'not so loud; the servants willhear you. ' Somehow they had got into the way of calling Liza theservants. 

'Let them, ' he answered recklessly. 'Bring in the whole world. But Irefuse to allow that dog to lord it in my nursery for an hour longer. '

The children wept, and Nana ran to him beseechingly, but he waved herback. He felt he was a strong man again. 'In vain, in vain, ' he cried;'the proper place for you is the yard, and there you go to be tied upthis instant. '

'George, George, ' Mrs. Darling whispered, 'remember what I told youabout that boy. '

Alas, he would not listen. He was determined to show who was master inthat house, and when commands would not draw Nana from the kennel, helured her out of it with honeyed words, and seizing her roughly, draggedher from the nursery. He was ashamed of himself, and yet he did it. Itwas all owing to his too affectionate nature, which craved foradmiration. When he had tied her up in the back-yard, the wretchedfather went and sat in the passage, with his knuckles to his eyes. 

In the meantime Mrs. Darling had put the children to bed in unwontedsilence and lit their night-lights. They could hear Nana barking, andJohn whimpered, 'It is because he is chaining her up in the yard, ' butWendy was wiser. 

'That is not Nana's unhappy bark, ' she said, little guessing what wasabout to happen; 'that is her bark when she smells danger. '

Danger!

'Are you sure, Wendy?'

'Oh yes. '

Mrs. Darling quivered and went to the window. It was securely fastened. She looked out, and the night was peppered with stars. They werecrowding round the house, as if curious to see what was to take placethere, but she did not notice this, nor that one or two of the smallerones winked at her. Yet a nameless fear clutched at her heart and madeher cry, 'Oh, how I wish that I wasn't going to a party to-night!'

Even Michael, already half asleep, knew that she was perturbed, and heasked, 'Can anything harm us, mother, after the night-lights are lit?'

'Nothing, precious, ' she said; 'they are the eyes a mother leaves behindher to guard her children. '

She went from bed to bed singing enchantments over them, and littleMichael flung his arms round her. 'Mother, ' he cried, 'I'm glad of you. 'They were the last words she was to hear from him for a long time. 

[Illustration: PETER FLEW IN]

No. 27 was only a few yards distant, but there had been a slight fall ofsnow, and Father and Mother Darling picked their way over it deftly notto soil their shoes. They were already the only persons in the street, and all the stars were watching them. Stars are beautiful, but they maynot take an active part in anything, they must just look on for ever. Itis a punishment put on them for something they did so long ago that nostar now knows what it was. So the older ones have become glassy-eyedand seldom speak (winking is the star language), but the little onesstill wonder. They are not really friendly to Peter, who has amischievous way of stealing up behind them and trying to blow them out;but they are so fond of fun that they were on his side to-night, andanxious to get the grown-ups out of the way. So as soon as the door of27 closed on Mr. And Mrs. Darling there was a commotion in thefirmament, and the smallest of all the stars in the Milky Way screamedout:

'Now, Peter!'

CHAPTER III

COME AWAY, COME AWAY!

For a moment after Mr. And Mrs. Darling left the house the night-lightsby the beds of the three children continued to burn clearly. They wereawfully nice little night-lights, and one cannot help wishing that theycould have kept awake to see Peter; but Wendy's light blinked and gavesuch a yawn that the other two yawned also, and before they could closetheir mouths all the three went out. 

There was another light in the room now, a thousand times brighter thanthe night-lights, and in the time we have taken to say this, it has beenin all the drawers in the nursery, looking for Peter's shadow, rummagedthe wardrobe and turned every pocket inside out. It was not really alight; it made this light by flashing about so quickly, but when it cameto rest for a second you saw it was a fairy, no longer than your hand, but still growing. It was a girl called Tinker Bell exquisitely gownedin a skeleton leaf, cut low and square, through which her figure couldbe seen to the best advantage. She was slightly inclined to_embonpoint_. 

A moment after the fairy's entrance the window was blown open by thebreathing of the little stars, and Peter dropped in. He had carriedTinker Bell part of the way, and his hand was still messy with the fairydust. 

'Tinker Bell, ' he called softly, after making sure that the childrenwere asleep, 'Tink, where are you?' She was in a jug for the moment, andliking it extremely; she had never been in a jug before. 

'Oh, do come out of that jug, and tell me, do you know where they put myshadow?'

The loveliest tinkle as of golden bells answered him. It is the fairylanguage. You ordinary children can never hear it, but if you were tohear it you would know that you had heard it once before. 

Tink said that the shadow was in the big box. She meant the chest ofdrawers, and Peter jumped at the drawers, scattering their contents tothe floor with both hands, as kings toss ha'pence to the crowd. In amoment he had recovered his shadow, and in his delight he forgot that hehad shut Tinker Bell up in the drawer. 

If he thought at all, but I don't believe he ever thought, it was thathe and his shadow, when brought near each other, would join like dropsof water; and when they did not he was appalled. He tried to stick it onwith soap from the bathroom, but that also failed. A shudder passedthrough Peter, and he sat on the floor and cried. 

His sobs woke Wendy, and she sat up in bed. She was not alarmed to see astranger crying on the nursery floor; she was only pleasantlyinterested. 

'Boy, ' she said courteously, 'why are you crying?'

Peter could be exceedingly polite also, having learned the grand mannerat fairy ceremonies, and he rose and bowed to her beautifully. She wasmuch pleased, and bowed beautifully to him from the bed. 

'What's your name?' he asked. 

'Wendy Moira Angela Darling, ' she replied with some satisfaction. 'Whatis your name?'

'Peter Pan. '

She was already sure that he must be Peter, but it did seem acomparatively short name. 

'Is that all?'

'Yes, ' he said rather sharply. He felt for the first time that it was ashortish name. 

'I'm so sorry, ' said Wendy Moira Angela. 

'It doesn't matter, ' Peter gulped. 

She asked where he lived. 

'Second to the right, ' said Peter, 'and then straight on till morning. '

'What a funny address!'

Peter had a sinking. For the first time he felt that perhaps it was afunny address. 

'No, it isn't, ' he said. 

'I mean, ' Wendy said nicely, remembering that she was hostess, 'is thatwhat they put on the letters?'

He wished she had not mentioned letters. 

'Don't get any letters, ' he said contemptuously. 

'But your mother gets letters?'

'Don't have a mother, ' he said. Not only had he no mother, but he hadnot the slightest desire to have one. He thought them very overratedpersons. Wendy, however, felt at once that she was in the presence of atragedy. 

'O Peter, no wonder you were crying, ' she said, and got out of bed andran to him. 

'I wasn't crying about mothers, ' he said rather indignantly. 'I wascrying because I can't get my shadow to stick on. Besides, I wasn'tcrying. '

'It has come off?'

'Yes. '

Then Wendy saw the shadow on the floor, looking so draggled, and she wasfrightfully sorry for Peter. 'How awful!' she said, but she could nothelp smiling when she saw that he had been trying to stick it on withsoap. How exactly like a boy!

Fortunately she knew at once what to do 'It must be sewn on, ' she said, just a little patronisingly. 

'What's sewn?' he asked. 

'You're dreadfully ignorant. '

'No, I'm not. '

But she was exulting in his ignorance. 'I shall sew it on for you, mylittle man, ' she said, though he was as tall as herself; and she got outher housewife, and sewed the shadow on to Peter's foot. 

'I daresay it will hurt a little, ' she warned him. 

'Oh, I shan't cry, ' said Peter, who was already of opinion that he hadnever cried in his life. And he clenched his teeth and did not cry; andsoon his shadow was behaving properly, though still a little creased. 

'Perhaps I should have ironed it, ' Wendy said thoughtfully; but Peter, boylike, was indifferent to appearances, and he was now jumping about inthe wildest glee. Alas, he had already forgotten that he owed his blissto Wendy. He thought he had attached the shadow himself. 'How clever Iam, ' he crowed rapturously, 'oh, the cleverness of me!'

It is humiliating to have to confess that this conceit of Peter was oneof his most fascinating qualities. To put it with brutal frankness, there never was a cockier boy. 

But for the moment Wendy was shocked. 'You conceit, ' she exclaimed, withfrightful sarcasm; 'of course I did nothing!'

'You did a little, ' Peter said carelessly, and continued to dance. 

'A little!' she replied with hauteur; 'if I am no use I can at leastwithdraw'; and she sprang in the most dignified way into bed and coveredher face with the blankets. 

To induce her to look up he pretended to be going away, and when thisfailed he sat on the end of the bed and tapped her gently with his foot. 'Wendy, ' he said, 'don't withdraw. I can't help crowing, Wendy, when I'mpleased with myself. ' Still she would not look up, though she waslistening eagerly. 'Wendy, ' he continued, in a voice that no woman hasever yet been able to resist, 'Wendy, one girl is more use than twentyboys. '

Now Wendy was every inch a woman, though there were not very manyinches, and she peeped out of the bedclothes. 

'Do you really think so, Peter?'

'Yes, I do. '

'I think it's perfectly sweet of you, ' she declared, 'and I'll get upagain'; and she sat with him on the side of the bed. She also said shewould give him a kiss if he liked, but Peter did not know what shemeant, and he held out his hand expectantly. 

'Surely you know what a kiss is?' she asked, aghast. 

'I shall know when you give it to me, ' he replied stiffly; and not tohurt his feelings she gave him a thimble. 

'Now, ' said he, 'shall I give you a kiss?' and she replied with a slightprimness, 'If you please. ' She made herself rather cheap by incliningher face toward him, but he merely dropped an acorn button into herhand; so she slowly returned her face to where it had been before, andsaid nicely that she would wear his kiss on the chain round her neck. Itwas lucky that she did put it on that chain, for it was afterwards tosave her life. 

When people in our set are introduced, it is customary for them to askeach other's age, and so Wendy, who always liked to do the correctthing, asked Peter how old he was. It was not really a happy question toask him; it was like an examination paper that asks grammar, when whatyou want to be asked is Kings of England. 

'I don't know, ' he replied uneasily, 'but I am quite young. ' He reallyknew nothing about it; he had merely suspicions, but he said at aventure, 'Wendy, I ran away the day I was born. '

Wendy was quite surprised, but interested; and she indicated in thecharming drawing-room manner, by a touch on her night-gown, that hecould sit nearer her. 

'It was because I heard father and mother, ' he explained in a low voice, 'talking about what I was to be when I became a man. ' He wasextraordinarily agitated now. 'I don't want ever to be a man, ' he saidwith passion. 'I want always to be a little boy and to have fun. So Iran away to Kensington Gardens and lived a long long time among thefairies. '

She gave him a look of the most intense admiration, and he thought itwas because he had run away, but it was really because he knew fairies. Wendy had lived such a home life that to know fairies struck her asquite delightful. She poured out questions about them, to his surprise, for they were rather a nuisance to him, getting in his way and so on, and indeed he sometimes had to give them a hiding. Still, he liked themon the whole, and he told her about the beginning of fairies. 

'You see, Wendy, when the first baby laughed for the first time, itslaugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies. '

Tedious talk this, but being a stay-at-home she liked it. 

'And so, ' he went on good-naturedly, 'there ought to be one fairy forevery boy and girl. '

'Ought to be? Isn't there?'

'No. You see children know such a lot now, they soon don't believe infairies, and every time a child says, 'I don't believe in fairies, 'there is a fairy somewhere that falls down dead. 

Really, he thought they had now talked enough about fairies, and itstruck him that Tinker Bell was keeping very quiet. 'I can't think whereshe has gone to, ' he said, rising, and he called Tink by name. Wendy'sheart went flutter with a sudden thrill. 

'Peter, ' she cried, clutching him, 'you don't mean to tell me that thereis a fairy in this room!'

'She was here just now, ' he said a little impatiently. 'You don't hearher, do you?' and they both listened. 

'The only sound I hear, ' said Wendy, 'is like a tinkle of bells. '

'Well, that's Tink, that's the fairy language. I think I hear her too. '

The sound came from the chest of drawers, and Peter made a merry face. No one could ever look quite so merry as Peter, and the loveliest ofgurgles was his laugh. He had his first laugh still. 

'Wendy, ' he whispered gleefully, 'I do believe I shut her up in thedrawer!'

He let poor Tink out of the drawer, and she flew about the nurseryscreaming with fury. 'You shouldn't say such things, ' Peter retorted. 'Of course I'm very sorry, but how could I know you were in the drawer?'

Wendy was not listening to him. 'O Peter, ' she cried, 'if she wouldonly stand still and let me see her!'

'They hardly ever stand still, ' he said, but for one moment Wendy sawthe romantic figure come to rest on the cuckoo clock. 'O the lovely!'she cried, though Tink's face was still distorted with passion. 

'Tink, ' said Peter amiably, 'this lady says she wishes you were herfairy. '

Tinker Bell answered insolently. 

'What does she say, Peter?'

He had to translate. 'She is not very polite. She says you are a greatugly girl, and that she is my fairy. '

He tried to argue with Tink. 'You know you can't be my fairy, Tink, because I am a gentleman and you are a lady. '

To this Tink replied in these words, 'You silly ass, ' and disappearedinto the bathroom. 'She is quite a common fairy, ' Peter explainedapologetically; 'she is called Tinker Bell because she mends the potsand kettles. '

They were together in the armchair by this time, and Wendy plied himwith more questions. 

'If you don't live in Kensington Gardens now----'

'Sometimes I do still. '

'But where do you live mostly now?'

'With the lost boys. '

'Who are they?'

'They are the children who fall out of their perambulators when thenurse is looking the other way. If they are not claimed in seven daysthey are sent far away to the Neverland to defray expenses. I'mcaptain. '

'What fun it must be!'

'Yes, ' said cunning Peter, 'but we are rather lonely. You see we have nofemale companionship. '

'Are none of the others girls?'

'Oh no; girls, you know, are much too clever to fall out of theirprams. '

This flattered Wendy immensely. 'I think, ' she said, 'it is perfectlylovely the way you talk about girls; John there just despises us. '

For reply Peter rose and kicked John out of bed, blankets and all; onekick. This seemed to Wendy rather forward for a first meeting, and shetold him with spirit that he was not captain in her house. However, John continued to sleep so placidly on the floor that she allowed him toremain there. 'And I know you meant to be kind, ' she said, relenting, 'so you may give me a kiss. '

For the moment she had forgotten his ignorance about kisses. 'I thoughtyou would want it back, ' he said a little bitterly, and offered toreturn her the thimble. 

'Oh dear, ' said the nice Wendy, 'I don't mean a kiss, I mean a thimble. '

'What's that?'

'It's like this. ' She kissed him. 

'Funny!' said Peter gravely. 'Now shall I give you a thimble?'

'If you wish to, ' said Wendy, keeping her head erect this time. 

Peter thimbled her, and almost immediately she screeched. 'What is it, Wendy?'

'It was exactly as if some one were pulling my hair. '

'That must have been Tink. I never knew her so naughty before. '

And indeed Tink was darting about again, using offensive language. 

'She says she will do that to you, Wendy, every time I give you athimble. '

'But why?'

'Why, Tink?'

Again Tink replied, 'You silly ass. ' Peter could not understand why, butWendy understood; and she was just slightly disappointed when headmitted that he came to the nursery window not to see her but to listento stories. 

'You see I don't know any stories. None of the lost boys know anystories. '

'How perfectly awful, ' Wendy said. 

'Do you know, ' Peter asked, 'why swallows build in the eaves of houses?It is to listen to the stories. O Wendy, your mother was telling yousuch a lovely story. '

'Which story was it?'

'About the prince who couldn't find the lady who wore the glassslipper. '

'Peter, ' said Wendy excitedly, 'that was Cinderella, and he found her, and they lived happy ever after. '

Peter was so glad that he rose from the floor, where they had beensitting, and hurried to the window. 'Where are you going?' she criedwith misgiving. 

'To tell the other boys. '

'Don't go, Peter, ' she entreated, 'I know such lots of stories. '

Those were her precise words, so there can be no denying that it was shewho first tempted him. 

He came back, and there was a greedy look in his eyes now which ought tohave alarmed her, but did not. 

'Oh, the stories I could tell to the boys!' she cried, and then Petergripped her and began to draw her toward the window. 

'Let me go!' she ordered him. 

'Wendy, do come with me and tell the other boys. '

Of course she was very pleased to be asked, but she said, 'Oh dear, Ican't. Think of mummy! Besides, I can't fly. '

'I'll teach you. '

'Oh, how lovely to fly. '

'I'll teach you how to jump on the wind's back, and then away we go. '

'Oo!' she exclaimed rapturously. 

'Wendy, Wendy, when you are sleeping in your silly bed you might beflying about with me saying funny things to the stars. '

'Oo!'

'And, Wendy, there are mermaids. '

'Mermaids! With tails?'

'Such long tails. '

'Oh, ' cried Wendy, 'to see a mermaid!'

He had become frightfully cunning. 'Wendy, ' he said, 'how we should allrespect you. '

She was wriggling her body in distress. It was quite as if she weretrying to remain on the nursery floor. 

But he had no pity for her. 

'Wendy, ' he said, the sly one, 'you could tuck us in at night. '

'Oo!'

'None of us has ever been tucked in at night. '

'Oo, ' and her arms went out to him. 

'And you could darn our clothes, and make pockets for us. None of us hasany pockets. '

How could she resist. 'Of course it's awfully fascinating!' she cried. 'Peter, would you teach John and Michael to fly too?'

'If you like, ' he said indifferently; and she ran to John and Michaeland shook them. 'Wake up, ' she cried, 'Peter Pan has come and he is toteach us to fly. '

John rubbed his eyes. 'Then I shall get up, ' he said. Of course he wason the floor already. 'Hallo, ' he said, 'I am up!'

Michael was up by this time also, looking as sharp as a knife with sixblades and a saw, but Peter suddenly signed silence. Their faces assumedthe awful craftiness of children listening for sounds from the grown-upworld. All was as still as salt. Then everything was right. No, stop!Everything was wrong. Nana, who had been barking distressfully all theevening, was quiet now. It was her silence they had heard. 

'Out with the light! Hide! Quick!' cried John, taking command for theonly time throughout the whole adventure. And thus when Liza entered, holding Nana, the nursery seemed quite its old self, very dark; and youcould have sworn you heard its three wicked inmates breathingangelically as they slept. They were really doing it artfully frombehind the window curtains. 

Liza was in a bad temper, for she was mixing the Christmas puddings inthe kitchen, and had been drawn away from them, with a raisin still onher cheek, by Nana's absurd suspicions. She thought the best way ofgetting a little quiet was to take Nana to the nursery for a moment, butin custody of course. 

'There, you suspicious brute, ' she said, not sorry that Nana was indisgrace, 'they are perfectly safe, aren't they? Every one of the littleangels sound asleep in bed. Listen to their gentle breathing. '

Here Michael, encouraged by his success, breathed so loudly that theywere nearly detected. Nana knew that kind of breathing, and she tried todrag herself out of Liza's clutches. 

But Liza was dense. 'No more of it, Nana, ' she said sternly, pulling herout of the room. 'I warn you if you bark again I shall go straight formaster and missus and bring them home from the party, and then, oh, won't master whip you, just. '

She tied the unhappy dog up again, but do you think Nana ceased to bark?Bring master and missus home from the party! Why, that was just whatshe wanted. Do you think she cared whether she was whipped so long asher charges were safe? Unfortunately Liza returned to her puddings, andNana, seeing that no help would come from her, strained and strained atthe chain until at last she broke it. In another moment she had burstinto the dining-room of 27 and flung up her paws to heaven, her mostexpressive way of making a communication. Mr. And Mrs. Darling knew atonce that something terrible was happening in their nursery, and withouta good-bye to their hostess they rushed into the street. 

But it was now ten minutes since three scoundrels had been breathingbehind the curtains; and Peter Pan can do a great deal in ten minutes. 

We now return to the nursery. 

'It's all right, ' John announced, emerging from his hiding-place. 'Isay, Peter, can you really fly?'

Instead of troubling to answer him Peter flew round the room, taking themantelpiece on the way. 

'How topping!' said John and Michael. 

'How sweet!' cried Wendy. 

'Yes, I'm sweet, oh, I am sweet!' said Peter, forgetting his mannersagain. 

It looked delightfully easy, and they tried it first from the floor andthen from the beds, but they always went down instead of up. 

'I say, how do you do it?' asked John, rubbing his knee. He was quite apractical boy. 

'You just think lovely wonderful thoughts, ' Peter explained, 'and theylift you up in the air. '

He showed them again. 

'You're so nippy at it, ' John said; 'couldn't you do it very slowlyonce?'

Peter did it both slowly and quickly. 'I've got it now, Wendy!' criedJohn, but soon he found he had not. Not one of them could fly an inch, though even Michael was in words of two syllables, and Peter did notknow A from Z. 

Of course Peter had been trifling with them, for no one can fly unlessthe fairy dust has been blown on him. Fortunately, as we have mentioned, one of his hands was messy with it, and he blew some on each of them, with the most superb results. 

'Now just wriggle your shoulders this way, ' he said, 'and let go. '

They were all on their beds, and gallant Michael let go first. He didnot quite mean to let go, but he did it, and immediately he was borneacross the room. 

'I flewed!' he screamed while still in mid-air. 

John let go and met Wendy near the bathroom. 

'Oh, lovely!'

'Oh, ripping!'

'Look at me!'

'Look at me!'

'Look at me!'

They were not nearly so elegant as Peter, they could not help kicking alittle, but their heads were bobbing against the ceiling, and there isalmost nothing so delicious as that. Peter gave Wendy a hand at first, but had to desist, Tink was so indignant. 

Up and down they went, and round and round. Heavenly was Wendy's word. 

'I say, ' cried John, 'why shouldn't we all go out!'

Of course it was to this that Peter had been luring them. 

Michael was ready: he wanted to see how long it took him to do a billionmiles. But Wendy hesitated. 

'Mermaids!' said Peter again. 

'Oo!'

'And there are pirates. '

'Pirates, ' cried John, seizing his Sunday hat, 'let us go at once. '

It was just at this moment that Mr. And Mrs. Darling hurried with Nanaout of 27. They ran into the middle of the street to look up at thenursery window; and, yes, it was still shut, but the room was ablazewith light, and most heart-gripping sight of all, they could see inshadow on the curtain three little figures in night attire circlinground and round, not on the floor but in the air. 

Not three figures, four!

In a tremble they opened the street door. Mr. Darling would have rushedupstairs, but Mrs. Darling signed to him to go softly. She even tried tomake her heart go softly. 

Will they reach the nursery in time? If so, how delightful for them, and we shall all breathe a sigh of relief, but there will be no story. On the other hand, if they are not in time, I solemnly promise that itwill all come right in the end. 

They would have reached the nursery in time had it not been that thelittle stars were watching them. Once again the stars blew the windowopen, and that smallest star of all called out:

'Cave, Peter!'

Then Peter knew that there was not a moment to lose. 'Come, ' he criedimperiously, and soared out at once into the night, followed by John andMichael and Wendy. 

Mr. And Mrs. Darling and Nana rushed into the nursery too late. Thebirds were flown. 

[Illustration: THE BIRDS WERE FLOWN]

CHAPTER IV

THE FLIGHT

'Second to the right, and straight on till morning. '

That, Peter had told Wendy, was the way to the Neverland; but evenbirds, carrying maps and consulting them at windy corners, could nothave sighted it with these instructions. Peter, you see, just saidanything that came into his head. 

At first his companions trusted him implicitly, and so great were thedelights of flying that they wasted time circling round church spires orany other tall objects on the way that took their fancy. 

John and Michael raced, Michael getting a start. 

They recalled with contempt that not so long ago they had thoughtthemselves fine fellows for being able to fly round a room. 

Not so long ago. But how long ago? They were flying over the sea beforethis thought began to disturb Wendy seriously. John thought it was theirsecond sea and their third night. 

Sometimes it was dark and sometimes light, and now they were very coldand again too warm. Did they really feel hungry at times, or were theymerely pretending, because Peter had such a jolly new way of feedingthem? His way was to pursue birds who had food in their mouths suitablefor humans and snatch it from them; then the birds would follow andsnatch it back; and they would all go chasing each other gaily formiles, parting at last with mutual expressions of good-will. But Wendynoticed with gentle concern that Peter did not seem to know that thiswas rather an odd way of getting your bread and butter, nor even thatthere are other ways. 

Certainly they did not pretend to be sleepy, they were sleepy; and thatwas a danger, for the moment they popped off, down they fell. The awfulthing was that Peter thought this funny. 

'There he goes again!' he would cry gleefully, as Michael suddenlydropped like a stone. 

'Save him, save him!' cried Wendy, looking with horror at the cruel seafar below. Eventually Peter would dive through the air, and catchMichael just before he could strike the sea, and it was lovely the wayhe did it; but he always waited till the last moment, and you felt itwas his cleverness that interested him and not the saving of human life. Also he was fond of variety, and the sport that engrossed him one momentwould suddenly cease to engage him, so there was always the possibilitythat the next time you fell he would let you go. 

He could sleep in the air without falling, by merely lying on his backand floating, but this was, partly at least, because he was so lightthat if you got behind him and blew he went faster. 

'Do be more polite to him, ' Wendy whispered to John, when they wereplaying 'Follow my Leader. '

'Then tell him to stop showing off, ' said John. 

When playing Follow my Leader, Peter would fly close to the water andtouch each shark's tail in passing, just as in the street you may runyour finger along an iron railing. They could not follow him in thiswith much success, so perhaps it was rather like showing off, especiallyas he kept looking behind to see how many tails they missed. 

'You must be nice to him, ' Wendy impressed on her brothers. 'What couldwe do if he were to leave us?'

'We could go back, ' Michael said. 

'How could we ever find our way back without him?'

'Well, then, we could go on, ' said John. 

'That is the awful thing, John. We should have to go on, for we don'tknow how to stop. '

This was true; Peter had forgotten to show them how to stop. 

John said that if the worst came to the worst, all they had to do was togo straight on, for the world was round, and so in time they must comeback to their own window. 

'And who is to get food for us, John?'

'I nipped a bit out of that eagle's mouth pretty neatly, Wendy. '

'After the twentieth try, ' Wendy reminded him. 'And even though webecame good at picking up food, see how we bump against clouds andthings if he is not near to give us a hand. '

Indeed they were constantly bumping. They could now fly strongly, thoughthey still kicked far too much; but if they saw a cloud in front ofthem, the more they tried to avoid it, the more certainly did they bumpinto it. If Nana had been with them, she would have had a bandage roundMichael's forehead by this time. 

Peter was not with them for the moment, and they felt rather lonely upthere by themselves. He could go so much faster than they that he wouldsuddenly shoot out of sight, to have some adventure in which they had noshare. He would come down laughing over something fearfully funny he hadbeen saying to a star, but he had already forgotten what it was, or hewould come up with mermaid scales still sticking to him, and yet not beable to say for certain what had been happening. It was really ratherirritating to children who had never seen a mermaid. 

'And if he forgets them, so quickly, ' Wendy argued, 'how can we expectthat he will go on remembering us?'

Indeed, sometimes when he returned he did not remember them, at leastnot well. Wendy was sure of it. She saw recognition come into his eyesas he was about to pass them the time of day and go on; once even shehad to tell him her name. 

'I'm Wendy, ' she said agitatedly. 

He was very sorry. 'I say, Wendy, ' he whispered to her, 'always if yousee me forgetting you, just keep on saying "I'm Wendy, " and then I'llremember. '

Of course this was rather unsatisfactory. However, to make amends heshowed them how to lie out flat on a strong wind that was going theirway, and this was such a pleasant change that they tried it severaltimes and found they could sleep thus with security. Indeed they wouldhave slept longer, but Peter tired quickly of sleeping, and soon hewould cry in his captain voice, 'We get off here. ' So with occasionaltiffs, but on the whole rollicking, they drew near the Neverland; forafter many moons they did reach it, and, what is more, they had beengoing pretty straight all the time, not perhaps so much owing to theguidance of Peter or Tink as because the island was out looking forthem. It is only thus that any one may sight those magic shores. 

'There it is, ' said Peter calmly. 

'Where, where?'

'Where all the arrows are pointing. '

Indeed a million golden arrows were pointing out the island to thechildren, all directed by their friend the sun, who wanted them to besure of their way before leaving them for the night. 

[Illustration: "LET HIM KEEP WHO CAN"]

Wendy and John and Michael stood on tiptoe in the air to get their firstsight of the island. Strange to say, they all recognised it at once, anduntil fear fell upon them they hailed it, not as something long dreamtof and seen at last, but as a familiar friend to whom they werereturning home for the holidays. 

'John, there's the lagoon. '

'Wendy, look at the turtles burying their eggs in the sand. '

'I say, John, I see your flamingo with the broken leg. '

'Look, Michael, there's your cave. '

'John, what's that in the brushwood?'

'It's a wolf with her whelps. Wendy, I do believe that's your littlewhelp. '

'There's my boat, John, with her sides stove in. '

'No, it isn't. Why, we burned your boat. '

'That's her, at any rate. I say, John, I see the smoke of the redskincamp. '

'Where? Show me, and I'll tell you by the way the smoke curls whetherthey are on the war-path. '

'There, just across the Mysterious River. '

'I see now. Yes, they are on the war-path right enough. '

Peter was a little annoyed with them for knowing so much; but if hewanted to lord it over them his triumph was at hand, for have I not toldyou that anon fear fell upon them?

It came as the arrows went, leaving the island in gloom. 

In the old days at home the Neverland had always begun to look a littledark and threatening by bedtime. Then unexplored patches arose in it andspread; black shadows moved about in them; the roar of the beasts ofprey was quite different now, and above all, you lost the certainty thatyou would win. You were quite glad that the night-lights were in. Youeven liked Nana to say that this was just the mantelpiece over here, andthat the Neverland was all make-believe. 

Of course the Neverland had been make-believe in those days; but it wasreal now, and there were no night-lights, and it was getting darkerevery moment, and where was Nana?

They had been flying apart, but they huddled close to Peter now. Hiscareless manner had gone at last, his eyes were sparkling, and a tinglewent through them every time they touched his body. They were now overthe fearsome island, flying so low that sometimes a tree grazed theirfeet. Nothing horrid was visible in the air, yet their progress hadbecome slow and laboured, exactly as if they were pushing their waythrough hostile forces. Sometimes they hung in the air until Peter hadbeaten on it with his fists. 

'They don't want us to land, ' he explained. 

'Who are they?' Wendy whispered, shuddering. 

But he could not or would not say. Tinker Bell had been asleep on hisshoulder, but now he wakened her and sent her on in front. 

Sometimes he poised himself in the air, listening intently with his handto his ear, and again he would stare down with eyes so bright that theyseemed to bore two holes to earth. Having done these things, he went onagain. 

His courage was almost appalling. 'Do you want an adventure now, ' hesaid casually to John, 'or would you like to have your tea first?'

Wendy said 'tea first' quickly, and Michael pressed her hand ingratitude, but the braver John hesitated. 

'What kind of adventure?' he asked cautiously. 

'There's a pirate asleep in the pampas just beneath us, ' Peter toldhim. 'If you like, we'll go down and kill him. '

'I don't see him, ' John said after a long pause. 

'I do. '

'Suppose, ' John said a little huskily, 'he were to wake up. '

Peter spoke indignantly. 'You don't think I would kill him while he wassleeping! I would wake him first, and then kill him. That's the way Ialways do. '

'I say! Do you kill many?'

'Tons. '

John said 'how ripping, ' but decided to have tea first. He asked ifthere were many pirates on the island just now, and Peter said he hadnever known so many. 

'Who is captain now?'

'Hook, ' answered Peter; and his face became very stern as he said thathated word. 

'Jas. Hook?'

'Ay. '

Then indeed Michael began to cry, and even John could speak in gulpsonly, for they knew Hook's reputation. 

'He was Blackbeard's bo'sun, ' John whispered huskily. 'He is the worstof them all. He is the only man of whom Barbecue was afraid. '

'That's him, ' said Peter. 

'What is he like? Is he big?'

'He is not so big as he was. '

'How do you mean?'

'I cut off a bit of him. '

'You!'

'Yes, me, ' said Peter sharply. 

'I wasn't meaning to be disrespectful. '

'Oh, all right'

'But, I say, what bit?'

'His right hand. '

'Then he can't fight now?'

'Oh, can't he just!'

'Left-hander?'

'He has an iron hook instead of a right hand, and he claws with it. '

'Claws!'

'I say, John, ' said Peter. 

'Yes. '

'Say, "Ay, ay, sir. "'

'Ay, ay, sir. '

'There is one thing, ' Peter continued, 'that every boy who serves underme has to promise, and so must you. '

John paled. 

'It is this, if we meet Hook in open fight, you must leave him to me. '

'I promise, ' John said loyally. 

For the moment they were feeling less eerie, because Tink was flyingwith them, and in her light they could distinguish each other. Unfortunately she could not fly so slowly as they, and so she had to goround and round them in a circle in which they moved as in a halo. Wendyquite liked it, until Peter pointed out the drawback. 

'She tells me, ' he said, 'that the pirates sighted us before thedarkness came, and got Long Tom out. '

'The big gun?'

'Yes. And of course they must see her light, and if they guess we arenear it they are sure to let fly. '

'Wendy!'

'John!'

'Michael!'

'Tell her to go away at once, Peter, ' the three cried simultaneously, but he refused. 

'She thinks we have lost the way, ' he replied stiffly, 'and she israther frightened. You don't think I would send her away all by herselfwhen she is frightened!'

For a moment the circle of light was broken, and something gave Peter aloving little pinch. 

'Then tell her, ' Wendy begged, 'to put out her light. '

'She can't put it out. That is about the only thing fairies can't do. Itjust goes out of itself when she falls asleep, same as the stars. '

'Then tell her to sleep at once, ' John almost ordered. 

'She can't sleep except when she's sleepy. It is the only other thingfairies can't do. '

'Seems to me, ' growled John, 'these are the only two things worthdoing. '

Here he got a pinch, but not a loving one. 

'If only one of us had a pocket, ' Peter said, 'we could carry her init. ' However, they had set off in such a hurry that there was not apocket between the four of them. 

He had a happy idea. John's hat!

Tink agreed to travel by hat if it was carried in the hand. Johncarried it, though she had hoped to be carried by Peter. Presently Wendytook the hat, because John said it struck against his knee as he flew;and this, as we shall see, led to mischief, for Tinker Bell hated to beunder an obligation to Wendy. 

In the black topper the light was completely hidden, and they flew on insilence. It was the stillest silence they had ever known, broken once bya distant lapping, which Peter explained was the wild beasts drinking atthe ford, and again by a rasping sound that might have been the branchesof trees rubbing together, but he said it was the redskins sharpeningtheir knives. 

Even these noises ceased. To Michael the loneliness was dreadful. 'Ifonly something would make a sound!' he cried. 

As if in answer to his request, the air was rent by the most tremendouscrash he had ever heard. The pirates had fired Long Tom at them. 

The roar of it echoed through the mountains, and the echoes seemed tocry savagely, 'Where are they, where are they, where are they?'

Thus sharply did the terrified three learn the difference between anisland of make-believe and the same island come true. 

When at last the heavens were steady again, John and Michael foundthemselves alone in the darkness. John was treading the airmechanically, and Michael without knowing how to float was floating. 

'Are you shot?' John whispered tremulously. 

'I haven't tried yet, ' Michael whispered back. 

We know now that no one had been hit. Peter, however, had been carriedby the wind of the shot far out to sea, while Wendy was blown upwardswith no companion but Tinker Bell. 

It would have been well for Wendy if at that moment she had dropped thehat. 

I don't know whether the idea came suddenly to Tink, or whether she hadplanned it on the way, but she at once popped out of the hat and beganto lure Wendy to her destruction. 

Tink was not all bad: or, rather, she was all bad just now, but, on theother hand, sometimes she was all good. Fairies have to be one thing orthe other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for onefeeling only at a time. They are, however, allowed to change, only itmust be a complete change. At present she was full of jealousy of Wendy. What she said in her lovely tinkle Wendy could not of course understand, and I believe some of it was bad words, but it sounded kind, and sheflew back and forward, plainly meaning 'Follow me, and all will bewell. '

What else could poor Wendy do? She called to Peter and John and Michael, and got only mocking echoes in reply. She did not yet know that Tinkhated her with the fierce hatred of a very woman. And so, bewildered, and now staggering in her flight, she followed Tink to her doom. 

CHAPTER V

THE ISLAND COME TRUE

Feeling that Peter was on his way back, the Neverland had again wokeinto life. We ought to use the pluperfect and say wakened, but woke isbetter and was always used by Peter. 

In his absence things are usually quiet on the island. The fairies takean hour longer in the morning, the beasts attend to their young, theredskins feed heavily for six days and nights, and when pirates and lostboys meet they merely bite their thumbs at each other. But with thecoming of Peter, who hates lethargy, they are all under way again: ifyou put your ear to the ground now, you would hear the whole islandseething with life. 

On this evening the chief forces of the island were disposed asfollows. The lost boys were out looking for Peter, the pirates were outlooking for the lost boys, the redskins were out looking for thepirates, and the beasts were out looking for the redskins. They weregoing round and round the island, but they did not meet because all weregoing at the same rate. 

All wanted blood except the boys, who liked it as a rule, but to-nightwere out to greet their captain. The boys on the island vary, of course, in numbers, according as they get killed and so on; and when they seemto be growing up, which is against the rules, Peter thins them out; butat this time there were six of them, counting the twins as two. Let uspretend to lie here among the sugar-cane and watch them as they steal byin single file, each with his hand on his dagger. 

They are forbidden by Peter to look in the least like him, and they wearthe skins of bears slain by themselves, in which they are so round andfurry that when they fall they roll. They have therefore become verysure-footed. 

The first to pass is Tootles, not the least brave but the mostunfortunate of all that gallant band. He had been in fewer adventuresthan any of them, because the big things constantly happened just whenhe had stepped round the corner; all would be quiet, he would take theopportunity of going off to gather a few sticks for firewood, and thenwhen he returned the others would be sweeping up the blood. Thisill-luck had given a gentle melancholy to his countenance, but insteadof souring his nature had sweetened it, so that he was quite thehumblest of the boys. Poor kind Tootles, there is danger in the air foryou to-night. Take care lest an adventure is now offered you, which, ifaccepted, will plunge you in deepest woe. Tootles, the fairy Tink who isbent on mischief this night is looking for a tool, and she thinks youthe most easily tricked of the boys. 'Ware Tinker Bell. 

Would that he could hear us, but we are not really on the island, and hepasses by, biting his knuckles. 

Next comes Nibs, the gay and debonair, followed by Slightly, who cutswhistles out of the trees and dances ecstatically to his own tunes. Slightly is the most conceited of the boys. He thinks he remembers thedays before he was lost, with their manners and customs, and this hasgiven his nose an offensive tilt. Curly is fourth; he is a pickle, andso often has he had to deliver up his person when Peter said sternly, 'Stand forth the one who did this thing, ' that now at the command hestands forth automatically whether he has done it or not. Last come theTwins, who cannot be described because we should be sure to bedescribing the wrong one. Peter never quite knew what twins were, andhis band were not allowed to know anything he did not know, so these twowere always vague about themselves, and did their best to givesatisfaction by keeping close together in an apologetic sort of way. 

The boys vanish in the gloom, and after a pause, but not a long pause, for things go briskly on the island, come the pirates on their track. Wehear them before they are seen, and it is always the same dreadful song:

 'Avast belay, yo ho, heave to, A-pirating we go, And if we're parted by a shot We're sure to meet below!'

A more villainous-looking lot never hung in a row on Execution dock. Here, a little in advance, ever and again with his head to the groundlistening, his great arms bare, pieces of eight in his ears asornaments, is the handsome Italian Cecco, who cut his name in letters ofblood on the back of the governor of the prison at Gao. That giganticblack behind him has had many names since he dropped the one with whichdusky mothers still terrify their children on the banks of theGuadjo-mo. Here is Bill Jukes, every inch of him tattooed, the same BillJukes who got six dozen on the _Walrus_ from Flint before he would dropthe bag of moidores; and Cookson, said to be Black Murphy's brother (butthis was never proved); and Gentleman Starkey, once an usher in a publicschool and still dainty in his ways of killing; and Skylights (Morgan'sSkylights); and the Irish bo'sun Smee, an oddly genial man who stabbed, so to speak, without offence, and was the only Nonconformist in Hook'screw; and Noodler, whose hands were fixed on backwards; and Robt. Mullins and Alf Mason and many another ruffian long known and feared onthe Spanish Main. 

In the midst of them, the blackest and largest jewel in that darksetting, reclined James Hook, or as he wrote himself, Jas. Hook, of whomit is said he was the only man that the Sea-Cook feared. He lay at hisease in a rough chariot drawn and propelled by his men, and instead of aright hand he had the iron hook with which ever and anon he encouragedthem to increase their pace. As dogs this terrible man treated andaddressed them, and as dogs they obeyed him. In person he was cadaverousand blackavized, and his hair was dressed in long curls, which at alittle distance looked like black candles, and gave a singularlythreatening expression to his handsome countenance. His eyes were of theblue of the forget-me-not, and of a profound melancholy, save when hewas plunging his hook into you, at which time two red spots appeared inthem and lit them up horribly. In manner, something of the grandseigneur still clung to him, so that he even ripped you up with an air, and I have been told that he was a _raconteur_ of repute. He was nevermore sinister than when he was most polite, which is probably the truesttest of breeding; and the elegance of his diction, even when he wasswearing, no less than the distinction of his demeanour, showed him oneof a different caste from his crew. A man of indomitable courage, it wassaid of him that the only thing he shied at was the sight of his ownblood, which was thick and of an unusual colour. In dress he somewhataped the attire associated with the name of Charles II. , having heard itsaid in some earlier period of his career that he bore a strangeresemblance to the ill-fated Stuarts; and in his mouth he had a holderof his own contrivance which enabled him to smoke two cigars at once. But undoubtedly the grimmest part of him was his iron claw. 

Let us now kill a pirate, to show Hook's method. Skylights will do. Asthey pass, Skylights lurches clumsily against him, ruffling his lacecollar; the hook shoots forth, there is a tearing sound and one screech, then the body is kicked aside, and the pirates pass on. He has not eventaken the cigars from his mouth. 

Such is the terrible man against whom Peter Pan is pitted. Which willwin?

On the trail of the pirates, stealing noiselessly down the war-path, which is not visible to inexperienced eyes, come the redskins, everyone of them with his eyes peeled. They carry tomahawks and knives, andtheir naked bodies gleam with paint and oil. Strung around them arescalps, of boys as well as of pirates, for these are the Piccaninnytribe, and not to be confused with the softer-hearted Delawares or theHurons. In the van, on all fours, is Great Big Little Panther, a braveof so many scalps that in his present position they somewhat impede hisprogress. Bringing up the rear, the place of greatest danger, comesTiger Lily, proudly erect, a princess in her own right. She is the mostbeautiful of dusky Dianas and the belle of the Piccaninnies, coquettish, cold and amorous by turns; there is not a brave who would not have thewayward thing to wife, but she staves off the altar with a hatchet. Observe how they pass over fallen twigs without making the slightestnoise. The only sound to be heard is their somewhat heavy breathing. Thefact is that they are all a little fat just now after the heavy gorging, but in time they will work this off. For the moment, however, itconstitutes their chief danger. 

The redskins disappear as they have come like shadows, and soon theirplace is taken by the beasts, a great and motley procession: lions, tigers, bears, and the innumerable smaller savage things that flee fromthem, for every kind of beast, and, more particularly; all theman-eaters, live cheek by jowl on the favoured island. Their tongues arehanging out, they are hungry to-night. 

When they have passed, comes the last figure of all, a giganticcrocodile. We shall see for whom she is looking presently. 

The crocodile passes, but soon the boys appear again, for the processionmust continue indefinitely until one of the parties stops or changes itspace. Then quickly they will be on top of each other. 

All are keeping a sharp look-out in front, but none suspects that thedanger may be creeping up from behind. This shows how real the islandwas. 

The first to fall out of the moving circle was the boys. They flungthemselves down on the sward, close to their underground home. 

'I do wish Peter would come back, ' every one of them said nervously, though in height and still more in breadth they were all larger thantheir captain. 

'I am the only one who is not afraid of the pirates, ' Slightly said, inthe tone that prevented his being a general favourite; but perhaps somedistant sound disturbed him, for he added hastily, 'but I wish he wouldcome back, and tell us whether he has heard anything more aboutCinderella. '

They talked of Cinderella, and Tootles was confident that his mothermust have been very like her. 

It was only in Peter's absence that they could speak of mothers, thesubject being forbidden by him as silly. 

'All I remember about my mother, ' Nibs told them, 'is that she oftensaid to father, "Oh, how I wish I had a cheque-book of my own. " I don'tknow what a cheque-book is, but I should just love to give my motherone. '

While they talked they heard a distant sound. You or I, not being wildthings of the woods, would have heard nothing, but they heard it, and itwas the grim song:

 'Yo ho, yo ho, the pirate life, The flag o' skull and bones, A merry hour, a hempen rope, And hey for Davy Jones. '

At once the lost boys--but where are they? They are no longer there. Rabbits could not have disappeared more quickly. 

I will tell you where they are. With the exception of Nibs, who hasdarted away to reconnoitre, they are already in their home under theground, a very delightful residence of which we shall see a good dealpresently. But how have they reached it? for there is no entrance to beseen, not so much as a pile of brushwood, which if removed woulddisclose the mouth of a cave. Look closely, however, and you may notethat there are here seven large trees, each having in its hollow trunk ahole as large as a boy. These are the seven entrances to the home underthe ground, for which Hook has been searching in vain these many moons. Will he find it to-night?

As the pirates advanced, the quick eye of Starkey sighted Nibsdisappearing through the wood, and at once his pistol flashed out. Butan iron claw gripped his shoulder. 

'Captain, let go, ' he cried, writhing. 

Now for the first time we hear the voice of Hook. It was a black voice. 'Put back that pistol first, ' it said threateningly. 

'It was one of those boys you hate. I could have shot him dead. '

'Ay, and the sound would have brought Tiger Lily's redskins upon us. Doyou want to lose your scalp?'

'Shall I after him, captain, ' asked pathetic Smee, 'and tickle him withJohnny Corkscrew?' Smee had pleasant names for everything, and hiscutlass was Johnny Corkscrew, because he wriggled it in the wound. Onecould mention many lovable traits in Smee. For instance, after killing, it was his spectacles he wiped instead of his weapon. 

'Johnny's a silent fellow, ' he reminded Hook. 

'Not now, Smee, ' Hook said darkly. 'He is only one, and I want tomischief all the seven. Scatter and look for them. '

The pirates disappeared among the trees, and in a moment their captainand Smee were alone. Hook heaved a heavy sigh; and I know not why itwas, perhaps it was because of the soft beauty of the evening, butthere came over him a desire to confide to his faithful bo'sun the storyof his life. He spoke long and earnestly, but what it was all aboutSmee, who was rather stupid, did not know in the least. 

Anon he caught the word Peter. 

'Most of all, ' Hook was saying passionately, 'I want their captain, Peter Pan. 'Twas he cut off my arm. ' He brandished the hookthreateningly. 'I've waited long to shake his hand with this. Oh, I'lltear him. '

'And yet, ' said Smee, 'I have often heard you say that hook was worth ascore of hands, for combing the hair and other homely uses. '

'Ay, ' the captain answered, 'if I was a mother I would pray to have mychildren born with this instead of that, ' and he cast a look of prideupon his iron hand and one of scorn upon the other. Then again hefrowned. 

'Peter flung my arm, ' he said, wincing, 'to a crocodile that happened tobe passing by. '

'I have often, ' said Smee, 'noticed your strange dread of crocodiles. '

'Not of crocodiles, ' Hook corrected him, 'but of that one crocodile. ' Helowered his voice. 'It liked my arm so much, Smee, that it has followedme ever since, from sea to sea and from land to land, licking its lipsfor the rest of me. '

'In a way, ' said Smee, 'it's a sort of compliment. '

'I want no such compliments, ' Hook barked petulantly. 'I want Peter Pan, who first gave the brute its taste for me. '

He sat down on a large mushroom, and now there was a quiver in hisvoice. 'Smee, ' he said huskily, 'that crocodile would have had me beforethis, but by a lucky chance it swallowed a clock which goes tick tickinside it, and so before it can reach me I hear the tick and bolt. ' Helaughed, but in a hollow way. 

'Some day, ' said Smee, 'the clock will run down, and then he'll getyou. '

Hook wetted his dry lips. 'Ay, ' he said, 'that's the fear that hauntsme. '

Since sitting down he had felt curiously warm. 'Smee, ' he said, 'thisseat is hot. ' He jumped up. 'Odds bobs, hammer and tongs I'm burning. '

They examined the mushroom, which was of a size and solidity unknown onthe mainland; they tried to pull it up, and it came away at once intheir hands, for it had no root. Stranger still, smoke began at once toascend. The pirates looked at each other. 'A chimney!' they bothexclaimed. 

They had indeed discovered the chimney of the home under the ground. Itwas the custom of the boys to stop it with a mushroom when enemies werein the neighbourhood. 

Not only smoke came out of it. There came also children's voices, for sosafe did the boys feel in their hiding-place that they were gailychattering. The pirates listened grimly, and then replaced the mushroom. They looked around them and noted the holes in the seven trees. 

'Did you hear them say Peter Pan's from home?' Smee whispered, fidgetingwith Johnny Corkscrew. 

Hook nodded. He stood for a long time lost in thought, and at last acurdling smile lit up his swarthy face. Smee had been waiting for it. 'Unrip your plan, captain, ' he cried eagerly. 

'To return to the ship, ' Hook replied slowly through his teeth, 'andcook a large rich cake of a jolly thickness with green sugar on it. There can be but one room below, for there is but one chimney. The sillymoles had not the sense to see that they did not need a door apiece. That shows they have no mother. We will leave the cake on the shore ofthe mermaids' lagoon. These boys are always swimming about there, playing with the mermaids. They will find the cake and they will gobbleit up, because, having no mother, they don't know how dangerous 'tis toeat rich damp cake. ' He burst into laughter, not hollow laughter now, but honest laughter. 'Aha, they will die. '

Smee had listened with growing admiration. 

'It's the wickedest, prettiest policy ever I heard of, ' he cried, and intheir exultation they danced and sang:

 'Avast, belay, when I appear, By fear they're overtook; Nought's left upon your bones when you Have shaken claws with Cook. '

They began the verse, but they never finished it, for another soundbroke in and stilled them. It was at first such a tiny sound that a leafmight have fallen on it and smothered it, but as it came nearer it wasmore distinct. 

Tick tick tick tick. 

Hook stood shuddering, one foot in the air. 

'The crocodile, ' he gasped, and bounded away, followed by his bo'sun. 

It was indeed the crocodile. It had passed the redskins, who were now onthe trail of the other pirates. It oozed on after Hook. 

Once more the boys emerged into the open; but the dangers of the nightwere not yet over, for presently Nibs rushed breathless into theirmidst, pursued by a pack of wolves. The tongues of the pursuers werehanging out; the baying of them was horrible. 

'Save me, save me!' cried Nibs, falling on the ground. 

'But what can we do, what can we do?'

It was a high compliment to Peter that at that dire moment theirthoughts turned to him. 

'What would Peter do?' they cried simultaneously. 

Almost in the same breath they added, 'Peter would look at them throughhis legs. '

And then, 'Let us do what Peter would do. '

It is quite the most successful way of defying wolves, and as one boythey bent and looked through their legs. The next moment is the longone; but victory came quickly, for as the boys advanced upon them inthis terrible attitude, the wolves dropped their tails and fled. 

Now Nibs rose from the ground, and the others thought that his staringeyes still saw the wolves. But it was not wolves he saw. 

'I have seen a wonderfuller thing, ' he cried, as they gathered round himeagerly. 'A great white bird. It is flying this way. '

'What kind of a bird, do you think?'

'I don't know, ' Nibs said, awestruck, 'but it looks so weary, and as itflies it moans, "Poor Wendy. "'

'Poor Wendy?'

'I remember, ' said Slightly instantly, 'there are birds called Wendies. '

'See, it comes, ' cried Curly, pointing to Wendy in the heavens. 

Wendy was now almost overhead, and they could hear her plaintive cry. But more distinct came the shrill voice of Tinker Bell. The jealousfairy had now cast off all disguise of friendship, and was darting ather victim from every direction, pinching savagely each time shetouched. 

'Hullo, Tink, ' cried the wondering boys. 

Tink's reply rang out: 'Peter wants you to shoot the Wendy. '

It was not in their nature to question when Peter ordered. 'Let us dowhat Peter wishes, ' cried the simple boys. 'Quick, bows and arrows. '

All but Tootles popped down their trees. He had a bow and arrow withhim, and Tink noted it, and rubbed her little hands. 

'Quick, Tootles, quick, ' she screamed. 'Peter will be so pleased. '

Tootles excitedly fitted the arrow to his bow. 'Out of the way, Tink, 'he shouted; and then he fired, and Wendy fluttered to the ground with anarrow in her breast. 

CHAPTER VI

THE LITTLE HOUSE

Foolish Tootles was standing like a conqueror over Wendy's body when theother boys sprang, armed, from their trees. 

'You are too late, ' he cried proudly, 'I have shot the Wendy. Peter willbe so pleased with me. '

Overhead Tinker Bell shouted 'Silly ass!' and darted into hiding. Theothers did not hear her. They had crowded round Wendy, and as theylooked a terrible silence fell upon the wood. If Wendy's heart had beenbeating they would all have heard it. 

Slightly was the first to speak. 'This is no bird, ' he said in a scaredvoice. 'I think it must be a lady. '

'A lady?' said Tootles, and fell a-trembling. 

'And we have killed her, ' Nibs said hoarsely. 

They all whipped off their caps. 

'Now I see, ' Curly said; 'Peter was bringing her to us. ' He threwhimself sorrowfully on the ground. 

'A lady to take care of us at last, ' said one of the twins, 'and youhave killed her. '

They were sorry for him, but sorrier for themselves, and when he took astep nearer them they turned from him. 

Tootles' face was very white, but there was a dignity about him now thathad never been there before. 

'I did it, ' he said, reflecting. 'When ladies used to come to me indreams, I said, "Pretty mother, pretty mother. " But when at last shereally came, I shot her. '

He moved slowly away. 

'Don't go, ' they called in pity. 

'I must, ' he answered, shaking; 'I am so afraid of Peter. '

It was at this tragic moment that they heard a sound which made theheart of every one of them rise to his mouth. They heard Peter crow. 

'Peter!' they cried, for it was always thus that he signalled hisreturn. 

'Hide her, ' they whispered, and gathered hastily around Wendy. ButTootles stood aloof. 

Again came that ringing crow, and Peter dropped in front of them. 'Greeting, boys, ' he cried, and mechanically they saluted, and thenagain was silence. 

He frowned. 

'I am back, ' he said hotly, 'why do you not cheer?'

They opened their mouths, but the cheers would not come. He overlookedit in his haste to tell the glorious tidings. 

'Great news, boys, ' he cried, 'I have brought at last a mother for youall. '

Still no sound, except a little thud from Tootles as he dropped on hisknees. 

'Have you not seen her?' asked Peter, becoming troubled. 'She flew thisway. '

'Ah me, ' one voice said, and another said, 'Oh, mournful day. '

Tootles rose. 'Peter, ' he said quietly, 'I will show her to you'; andwhen the others would still have hidden her he said, 'Back, twins, letPeter see. '

So they all stood back, and let him see, and after he had looked for alittle time he did not know what to do next. 

'She is dead, ' he said uncomfortably. 'Perhaps she is frightened atbeing dead. '

He thought of hopping off in a comic sort of way till he was out ofsight of her, and then never going near the spot any more. They wouldall have been glad to follow if he had done this. 

But there was the arrow. He took it from her heart and faced his band. 

'Whose arrow?' he demanded sternly. 

'Mine, Peter, ' said Tootles on his knees. 

'Oh, dastard hand, ' Peter said, and he raised the arrow to use it as adagger. 

Tootles did not flinch. He bared his breast. 

'Strike, Peter, ' he said firmly, 'strike true. '

Twice did Peter raise the arrow, and twice did his hand fall. 'I cannotstrike, ' he said with awe, 'there is something stays my hand. '

All looked at him in wonder, save Nibs, who fortunately looked at Wendy. 

'It is she, ' he cried, 'the Wendy lady; see, her arm. '

Wonderful to relate, Wendy had raised her arm. Nibs bent over her andlistened reverently. 'I think she said "Poor Tootles, "' he whispered. 

'She lives, ' Peter said briefly. 

Slightly cried instantly, 'The Wendy lady lives. '

Then Peter knelt beside her and found his button. You remember she hadput it on a chain that she wore round her neck. 

'See, ' he said, 'the arrow struck against this. It is the kiss I gaveher. It has saved her life. '

'I remember kisses, ' Slightly interposed quickly, 'let me see it. Ay, that's a kiss. '

Peter did not hear him. He was begging Wendy to get better quickly, sothat he could show her the mermaids. Of course she could not answer yet, being still in a frightful faint; but from overhead came a wailing note. 

'Listen to Tink, ' said Curly, 'she is crying because the Wendy lives. '

Then they had to tell Peter of Tink's crime, and almost never had theyseen him look so stern. 

'Listen, Tinker Bell, ' he cried; 'I am your friend no more. Begone fromme for ever. '

She flew on to his shoulder and pleaded, but he brushed her off. Notuntil Wendy again raised her arm did he relent sufficiently to say, 'Well, not for ever, but for a whole week. '

Do you think Tinker Bell was grateful to Wendy for raising her arm? Ohdear no, never wanted to pinch her so much. Fairies indeed are strange, and Peter, who understood them best, often cuffed them. 

But what to do with Wendy in her present delicate state of health?

'Let us carry her down into the house, ' Curly suggested. 

'Ay, ' said Slightly, 'that is what one does with ladies. '

'No, no, ' Peter said, 'you must not touch her. It would not besufficiently respectful. '

'That, ' said Slightly, 'is what I was thinking. '

'But if she lies there, ' Tootles said, 'she will die. '

'Ay, she will die, ' Slightly admitted, 'but there is no way out. '

'Yes, there is, ' cried Peter. 'Let us build a little house round her. '

They were all delighted. 'Quick, ' he ordered them, 'bring me each of youthe best of what we have. Gut our house. Be sharp. '

In a moment they were as busy as tailors the night before a wedding. They skurried this way and that, down for bedding, up for firewood, andwhile they were at it, who should appear but John and Michael. As theydragged along the ground they fell asleep standing, stopped, woke up, moved another step and slept again. 

'John, John, ' Michael would cry, 'wake up. Where is Nana, John, andmother?'

And then John would rub his eyes and mutter, 'It is true, we did fly. '

You may be sure they were very relieved to find Peter. 

'Hullo, Peter, ' they said. 

'Hullo, ' replied Peter amicably, though he had quite forgotten them. Hewas very busy at the moment measuring Wendy with his feet to see howlarge a house she would need. Of course he meant to leave room forchairs and a table. John and Michael watched him. 

'Is Wendy asleep?' they asked. 

'Yes. '

'John, ' Michael proposed, 'let us wake her and get her to make supperfor us'; but as he said it some of the other boys rushed on carryingbranches for the building of the house. 

'Look at them!' he cried. 

'Curly, ' said Peter in his most captainy voice, 'see that these boyshelp in the building of the house. '

'Ay, ay, sir. '

'Build a house?' exclaimed John. 

'For the Wendy, ' said Curly. 

'For Wendy?' John said, aghast. 'Why, she is only a girl. '

'That, ' explained Curly, 'is why we are her servants. '

'You? Wendy's servants!'

'Yes, ' said Peter, 'and you also. Away with them. '

The astounded brothers were dragged away to hack and hew and carry. 'Chairs and a fender first, ' Peter ordered. 'Then we shall build thehouse round them. '

'Ay, ' said Slightly, 'that is how a house is built; it all comes back tome. '

Peter thought of everything. 'Slightly, ' he ordered, 'fetch a doctor. '

'Ay, ay, ' said Slightly at once, and disappeared, scratching his head. But he knew Peter must be obeyed, and he returned in a moment, wearingJohn's hat and looking solemn. 

'Please, sir, ' said Peter, going to him, 'are you a doctor?'

The difference between him and the other boys at such a time was thatthey knew it was make-believe, while to him make-believe and true wereexactly the same thing. This sometimes troubled them, as when they hadto make-believe that they had had their dinners. 

If they broke down in their make-believe he rapped them on the knuckles. 

'Yes, my little man, ' anxiously replied Slightly, who had chappedknuckles. 

'Please, sir, ' Peter explained, 'a lady lies very ill. '

She was lying at their feet, but Slightly had the sense not to see her. 

'Tut, tut, tut, ' he said, 'where does she lie?'

'In yonder glade. '

'I will put a glass thing in her mouth, ' said Slightly; and hemade-believe to do it, while Peter waited. It was an anxious moment whenthe glass thing was withdrawn. 

'How is she?' inquired Peter. 

'Tut, tut, tut, ' said Slightly, 'this has cured her. '

'I am glad, ' Peter cried. 

'I will call again in the evening, ' Slightly said; 'give her beef teaout of a cup with a spout to it'; but after he had returned the hat toJohn he blew big breaths, which was his habit on escaping from adifficulty. 

In the meantime the wood had been alive with the sound of axes; almosteverything needed for a cosy dwelling already lay at Wendy's feet. 

'If only we knew, ' said one, 'the kind of house she likes best. '

'Peter, ' shouted another, 'she is moving in her sleep. '

'Her mouth opens, ' cried a third, looking respectfully into it. 'Oh, lovely!'

'Perhaps she is going to sing in her sleep, ' said Peter. 'Wendy, singthe kind of house you would like to have. '

Immediately, without opening her eyes, Wendy began to sing:

 'I wish I had a pretty house, The littlest ever seen, With funny little red walls And roof of mossy green. '

They gurgled with joy at this, for by the greatest good luck thebranches they had brought were sticky with red sap, and all the groundwas carpeted with moss. As they rattled up the little house they brokeinto song themselves:

 'We've built the little walls and roof And made a lovely door, So tell us, mother Wendy, What are you wanting more?'

To this she answered rather greedily:

 'Oh, really next I think I'll have Gay windows all about, With roses peeping in, you know, And babies peeping out. '

With a blow of their fists they made windows, and large yellow leaveswere the blinds. But roses----?

'Roses, ' cried Peter sternly. 

Quickly they made-believe to grow the loveliest roses up the walls. 

Babies?

To prevent Peter ordering babies they hurried into song again:

 'We've made the roses peeping out, The babes are at the door, We cannot make ourselves, you know, 'Cos we've been made before. '

Peter, seeing this to be a good idea, at once pretended that it was hisown. The house was quite beautiful, and no doubt Wendy was very cosywithin, though, of course, they could no longer see her. Peter strode upand down, ordering finishing touches. Nothing escaped his eagle eye. Just when it seemed absolutely finished, 'There's no knocker on the door, ' he said. 

They were very ashamed, but Tootles gave the sole of his shoe, and itmade an excellent knocker. 

Absolutely finished now, they thought. 

Not a bit of it. 'There's no chimney, ' Peter said; 'we must have achimney. '

'It certainly does need a chimney, ' said John importantly. This gavePeter an idea. He snatched the hat off John's head, knocked out thebottom, and put the hat on the roof. The little house was so pleased tohave such a capital chimney that, as if to say thank you, smokeimmediately began to come out of the hat. 

Now really and truly it was finished. Nothing remained to do but toknock. 

'All look your best, ' Peter warned them; 'first impressions are awfullyimportant. '

He was glad no one asked him what first impressions are; they were alltoo busy looking their best. 

He knocked politely; and now the wood was as still as the children, nota sound to be heard except from Tinker Bell, who was watching from abranch and openly sneering. 

What the boys were wondering was, would any one answer the knock? If alady, what would she be like?

The door opened and a lady came out. It was Wendy. They all whipped offtheir hats. 

She looked properly surprised, and this was just how they had hoped shewould look. 

'Where am I?' she said. 

Of course Slightly was the first to get his word in. 'Wendy lady, ' hesaid rapidly, 'for you we built this house. '

'Oh, say you're pleased, ' cried Nibs. 

'Lovely, darling house, ' Wendy said, and they were the very words theyhad hoped she would say. 

'And we are your children, ' cried the twins. 

Then all went on their knees, and holding out their arms cried, 'O Wendylady, be our mother. '

'Ought I?' Wendy said, all shining. 'Of course it's frightfullyfascinating, but you see I am only a little girl. I have no realexperience. '

'That doesn't matter, ' said Peter, as if he were the only person presentwho knew all about it, though he was really the one who knew least. 'What we need is just a nice motherly person. '

'Oh dear!' Wendy said, 'you see I feel that is exactly what I am. '

'It is, it is, ' they all cried; 'we saw it at once. '

'Very well, ' she said, 'I will do my best. Come inside at once, younaughty children; I am sure your feet are damp. And before I put you tobed I have just time to finish the story of Cinderella. '

In they went; I don't know how there was room for them, but you cansqueeze very tight in the Neverland. And that was the first of the manyjoyous evenings they had with Wendy. By and by she tucked them up in thegreat bed in the home under the trees, but she herself slept that nightin the little house, and Peter kept watch outside with drawn sword, forthe pirates could be heard carousing far away and the wolves were on theprowl. The little house looked so cosy and safe in the darkness, with abright light showing through its blinds, and the chimney smokingbeautifully, and Peter standing on guard. After a time he fell asleep, and some unsteady fairies had to climb over him on their way home froman orgy. Any of the other boys obstructing the fairy path at night theywould have mischiefed, but they just tweaked Peter's nose and passed on. 

[Illustration: PETER ON GUARD]

CHAPTER VII

THE HOME UNDER THE GROUND

One of the first things Peter did next day was to measure Wendy and Johnand Michael for hollow trees. Hook, you remember, had sneered at theboys for thinking they needed a tree apiece, but this was ignorance, forunless your tree fitted you it was difficult to go up and down, and notwo of the boys were quite the same size. Once you fitted, you drew inyour breath at the top, and down you went at exactly the right speed, while to ascend you drew in and let out alternately, and so wriggled up. Of course, when you have mastered the action you are able to do thesethings without thinking of them, and then nothing can be more graceful. 

But you simply must fit, and Peter measures you for your tree ascarefully as for a suit of clothes: the only difference being that theclothes are made to fit you, while you have to be made to fit the tree. Usually it is done quite easily, as by your wearing too many garments ortoo few; but if you are bumpy in awkward places or the only availabletree is an odd shape, Peter does some things to you, and after that youfit. Once you fit, great care must be taken to go on fitting, and this, as Wendy was to discover to her delight, keeps a whole family in perfectcondition. 

Wendy and Michael fitted their trees at the first try, but John had tobe altered a little. 

After a few days' practice they could go up and down as gaily as bucketsin a well. And how ardently they grew to love their home under theground; especially Wendy. It consisted of one large room, as all housesshould do, with a floor in which you could dig if you wanted to gofishing, and in this floor grew stout mushrooms of a charming colour, which were used as stools. A Never tree tried hard to grow in the centreof the room, but every morning they sawed the trunk through, level withthe floor. By tea-time it was always about two feet high, and then theyput a door on top of it, the whole thus becoming a table; as soon asthey cleared away, they sawed off the trunk again, and thus there wasmore room to play. There was an enormous fireplace which was in almostany part of the room where you cared to light it, and across this Wendystretched strings, made of fibre, from which she suspended her washing. The bed was tilted against the wall by day, and let down at 6. 30, whenit filled nearly half the room; and all the boys except Michael slept init, lying like sardines in a tin. There was a strict rule againstturning round until one gave the signal, when all turned at once. Michael should have used it also; but Wendy would have a baby, and hewas the littlest, and you know what women are, and the short and thelong of it is that he was hung up in a basket. 

It was rough and simple, and not unlike what baby bears would have madeof an underground house in the same circumstances. But there was onerecess in the wall, no larger than a bird-cage, which was the privateapartment of Tinker Bell. It could be shut off from the rest of thehome by a tiny curtain, which Tink, who was most fastidious, always keptdrawn when dressing or undressing. No woman, however large, could havehad a more exquisite boudoir and bedchamber combined. The couch, as shealways called it, was a genuine Queen Mab, with club legs; and shevaried the bedspreads according to what fruit-blossom was in season. Hermirror was a Puss-in-boots, of which there are now only three, unchipped, known to the fairy dealers; the wash-stand was Pie-crust andreversible, the chest of drawers an authentic Charming the Sixth, andthe carpet and rugs of the best (the early) period of Margery and Robin. There was a chandelier from Tiddly winks for the look of the thing, butof course she lit the residence herself. Tink was very contemptuous ofthe rest of the house, as indeed was perhaps inevitable; and herchamber, though beautiful, looked rather conceited, having theappearance of a nose permanently turned up. 

I suppose it was all especially entrancing to Wendy, because thoserampagious boys of hers gave her so much to do. Really there were wholeweeks when, except perhaps with a stocking in the evening, she was neverabove ground. The cooking, I can tell you, kept her nose to the pot. Their chief food was roasted breadfruit, yams, cocoa-nuts, baked pig, mammee-apples, tappa rolls and bananas, washed down with calabashes ofpoe-poe; but you never exactly knew whether there would be a real mealor just a make-believe, it all depended upon Peter's whim. He could eat, really eat, if it was part of a game, but he could not stodge just tofeel stodgy, which is what most children like better than anything else;the next best thing being to talk about it. Make-believe was so real tohim that during a meal of it you could see him getting rounder. Ofcourse it was trying, but you simply had to follow his lead, and if youcould prove to him that you were getting loose for your tree he let youstodge. 

Wendy's favourite time for sewing and darning was after they had allgone to bed. Then, as she expressed it, she had a breathing time forherself; and she occupied it in making new things for them, and puttingdouble pieces on the knees, for they were all most frightfully hard ontheir knees. 

When she sat down to a basketful of their stockings, every heel with ahole in it, she would fling up her arms and exclaim, 'Oh dear, I am sureI sometimes think spinsters are to be envied. '

Her face beamed when she exclaimed this. 

You remember about her pet wolf. Well, it very soon discovered that shehad come to the island and it found her out, and they just ran into eachother's arms. After that it followed her about everywhere. 

As time wore on did she think much about the beloved parents she hadleft behind her? This is a difficult question, because it is quiteimpossible to say how time does wear on in the Neverland, where it iscalculated by moons and suns, and there are ever so many more of themthan on the mainland. But I am afraid that Wendy did not really worryabout her father and mother; she was absolutely confident that theywould always keep the window open for her to fly back by, and this gaveher complete ease of mind. What did disturb her at times was that Johnremembered his parents vaguely only, as people he had once known, whileMichael was quite willing to believe that she was really his mother. These things scared her a little, and nobly anxious to do her duty, shetried to fix the old life in their minds by setting them examinationpapers on it, as like as possible to the ones she used to do at school. The other boys thought this awfully interesting, and insisted onjoining, and they made slates for themselves, and sat round the table, writing and thinking hard about the questions she had written on anotherslate and passed round. They were the most ordinary questions--'What wasthe colour of Mother's eyes? Which was taller, Father or Mother? WasMother blonde or brunette? Answer all three questions if possible. ' '(A)Write an essay of not less than 40 words on How I spent my lastHolidays, or The Caracters of Father and Mother compared. Only one ofthese to be attempted. ' Or '(1) Describe Mother's laugh; (2) DescribeFather's laugh; (3) Describe Mother's Party Dress; (4) Describe theKennel and its Inmate. '

They were just everyday questions like these, and when you could notanswer them you were told to make a cross; and it was really dreadfulwhat a number of crosses even John made. Of course the only boy whoreplied to every question was Slightly, and no one could have been morehopeful of coming out first, but his answers were perfectly ridiculous, and he really came out last: a melancholy thing. 

Peter did not compete. For one thing he despised all mothers exceptWendy, and for another he was the only boy on the island who couldneither write nor spell; not the smallest word. He was above all thatsort of thing. 

By the way, the questions were all written in the past tense. What wasthe colour of Mother's eyes, and so on. Wendy, you see, had beenforgetting too. 

Adventures, of course, as we shall see, were of daily occurrence; butabout this time Peter invented, with Wendy's help, a new game thatfascinated him enormously, until he suddenly had no more interest in it, which, as you have been told, was what always happened with his games. It consisted in pretending not to have adventures, in doing the sort ofthing John and Michael had been doing all their lives: sitting onstools flinging balls in the air, pushing each other, going out forwalks and coming back without having killed so much as a grizzly. To seePeter doing nothing on a stool was a great sight; he could not helplooking solemn at such times, to sit still seemed to him such a comicthing to do. He boasted that he had gone a walk for the good of hishealth. For several suns these were the most novel of all adventures tohim; and John and Michael had to pretend to be delighted also; otherwisehe would have treated them severely. 

He often went out alone, and when he came back you were never absolutelycertain whether he had had an adventure or not. He might have forgottenit so completely that he said nothing about it; and then when you wentout you found the body; and, on the other hand, he might say a greatdeal about it, and yet you could not find the body. Sometimes he camehome with his head bandaged, and then Wendy cooed over him and bathed itin lukewarm water, while he told a dazzling tale. But she was neverquite sure, you know. There were, however, many adventures which sheknew to be true because she was in them herself, and there were stillmore that were at least partly true, for the other boys were in them andsaid they were wholly true. To describe them all would require a book aslarge as an English-Latin, Latin-English Dictionary, and the most we cando is to give one as a specimen of an average hour on the island. Thedifficulty is which one to choose. Should we take the brush with theredskins at Slightly Gulch? It was a sanguinary affair, and especiallyinteresting as showing one of Peter's peculiarities, which was that inthe middle of a fight he would suddenly change sides. At the Gulch, whenvictory was still in the balance, sometimes leaning this way andsometimes that, he called out, 'I'm redskin to-day; what are you, Tootles?' And Tootles answered, 'Redskin; what are you, Nibs?' and Nibssaid, 'Redskin; what are you, Twin?' and so on; and they were allredskin; and of course this would have ended the fight had not the realredskins, fascinated by Peter's methods, agreed to be lost boys for thatonce, and so at it they all went again, more fiercely than ever. 

The extraordinary upshot of this adventure was--but we have not decidedyet that this is the adventure we are to narrate. Perhaps a better onewould be the night attack by the redskins on the house under the ground, when several of them stuck in the hollow trees and had to be pulled outlike corks. Or we might tell how Peter saved Tiger Lily's life in theMermaids' Lagoon, and so made her his ally. 

Or we could tell of that cake the pirates cooked so that the boys mighteat it and perish; and how they placed it in one cunning spot afteranother; but always Wendy snatched it from the hands of her children, sothat in time it lost its succulence, and became as hard as a stone, andwas used as a missile, and Hook fell over it in the dark. 

Or suppose we tell of the birds that were Peter's friends, particularlyof the Never bird that built in a tree overhanging the lagoon, and howthe nest fell into the water, and still the bird sat on her eggs, andPeter gave orders that she was not to be disturbed. That is a prettystory, and the end shows how grateful a bird can be; but if we tell itwe must also tell the whole adventure of the lagoon, which would ofcourse be telling two adventures rather than just one. A shorteradventure, and quite as exciting, was Tinker Bell's attempt, with thehelp of some street fairies, to have the sleeping Wendy conveyed on agreat floating leaf to the mainland. Fortunately the leaf gave way andWendy woke, thinking it was bath-time, and swam back. Or again, we mightchoose Peter's defiance of the lions, when he drew a circle round him onthe ground with an arrow and defied them to cross it; and though hewaited for hours, with the other boys and Wendy looking on breathlesslyfrom trees, not one of them dared to accept his challenge. 

Which of these adventures shall we choose? The best way will be to tossfor it. 

I have tossed, and the lagoon has won. This almost makes one wish thatthe gulch or the cake or Tink's leaf had won. Of course I could do itagain, and make it best out of three; however, perhaps fairest to stickto the lagoon. 

CHAPTER VIII

THE MERMAIDS' LAGOON

If you shut your eyes and are a lucky one, you may see at times ashapeless pool of lovely pale colours suspended in the darkness; then ifyou squeeze your eyes tighter, the pool begins to take shape, and thecolours become so vivid that with another squeeze they must go on fire. But just before they go on fire you see the lagoon. This is the nearestyou ever get to it on the mainland, just one heavenly moment; if therecould be two moments you might see the surf and hear the mermaidssinging. 

The children often spent long summer days on this lagoon, swimming orfloating most of the time, playing the mermaid games in the water, andso forth. You must not think from this that the mermaids were onfriendly terms with them; on the contrary, it was among Wendy's lastingregrets that all the time she was on the island she never had a civilword from one of them. When she stole softly to the edge of the lagoonshe might see them by the score, especially on Marooners' Rock, wherethey loved to bask, combing out their hair in a lazy way that quiteirritated her; or she might even swim, on tiptoe as it were, to within ayard of them, but then they saw her and dived, probably splashing herwith their tails, not by accident, but intentionally. 

[Illustration: SUMMER DAYS ON THE LAGOON]

They treated all the boys in the same way, except of course Peter, whochatted with them on Marooners' Rock by the hour, and sat on their tailswhen they got cheeky. He gave Wendy one of their combs. 

The most haunting time at which to see them is at the turn of the moon, when they utter strange wailing cries; but the lagoon is dangerous formortals then, and until the evening of which we have now to tell, Wendyhad never seen the lagoon by moonlight, less from fear, for of coursePeter would have accompanied her, than because she had strict rulesabout every one being in bed by seven. She was often at the lagoon, however, on sunny days after rain, when the mermaids come up inextraordinary numbers to play with their bubbles. The bubbles of manycolours made in rainbow water they treat as balls, hitting them gailyfrom one to another with their tails, and trying to keep them in therainbow till they burst. The goals are at each end of the rainbow, andthe keepers only are allowed to use their hands. Sometimes hundreds ofmermaids will be playing in the lagoon at a time, and it is quite apretty sight. 

But the moment the children tried to join in they had to play bythemselves, for the mermaids immediately disappeared. Nevertheless wehave proof that they secretly watched the interlopers, and were notabove taking an idea from them; for John introduced a new way of hittingthe bubble, with the head instead of the hand, and the mermaidgoal-keepers adopted it. This is the one mark that John has left on theNeverland. 

It must also have been rather pretty to see the children resting on arock for half an hour after their midday meal. Wendy insisted on theirdoing this, and it had to be a real rest even though the meal wasmake-believe. So they lay there in the sun, and their bodies glistenedin it, while she sat beside them and looked important. 

It was one such day, and they were all on Marooners' Rock. The rock wasnot much larger than their great bed, but of course they all knew hownot to take up much room, and they were dozing, or at least lying withtheir eyes shut, and pinching occasionally when they thought Wendy wasnot looking. She was very busy, stitching. 

While she stitched a change came to the lagoon. Little shivers ran overit, and the sun went away and shadows stole across the water, turning itcold. Wendy could no longer see to thread her needle, and when shelooked up, the lagoon that had always hitherto been such a laughingplace seemed formidable and unfriendly. 

It was not, she knew, that night had come, but something as dark asnight had come. No, worse than that. It had not come, but it had sentthat shiver through the sea to say that it was coming. What was it?

There crowded upon her all the stories she had been told of Marooners'Rock, so called because evil captains put sailors on it and leave themthere to drown. They drown when the tide rises, for then it issubmerged. 

Of course she should have roused the children at once; not merelybecause of the unknown that was stalking toward them, but because it wasno longer good for them to sleep on a rock grown chilly. But she was ayoung mother and she did not know this; she thought you simply muststick to your rule about half an hour after the midday meal. So, thoughfear was upon her, and she longed to hear male voices, she would notwaken them. Even when she heard the sound of muffled oars, though herheart was in her mouth, she did not waken them. She stood over them tolet them have their sleep out. Was it not brave of Wendy?

It was well for those boys then that there was one among them who couldsniff danger even in his sleep. Peter sprang erect, as wide awake atonce as a dog, and with one warning cry he roused the others. 

He stood motionless, one hand to his ear. 

'Pirates!' he cried. The others came closer to him. A strange smile wasplaying about his face, and Wendy saw it and shuddered. While that smilewas on his face no one dared address him; all they could do was to standready to obey. The order came sharp and incisive. 

'Dive!'

There was a gleam of legs, and instantly the lagoon seemed deserted. Marooners' Rock stood alone in the forbidding waters, as if it wereitself marooned. 

The boat drew nearer. It was the pirate dinghy, with three figures inher, Smee and Starkey, and the third a captive, no other than TigerLily. Her hands and ankles were tied, and she knew what was to be herfate. She was to be left on the rock to perish, an end to one of herrace more terrible than death by fire or torture, for is it not writtenin the book of the tribe that there is no path through water to thehappy hunting-ground? Yet her face was impassive; she was the daughterof a chief, she must die as a chief's daughter, it is enough. 

They had caught her boarding the pirate ship with a knife in her mouth. No watch was kept on the ship, it being Hook's boast that the wind ofhis name guarded the ship for a mile around. Now her fate would help toguard it also. One more wail would go the round in that wind by night. 

In the gloom that they brought with them the two pirates did not see therock till they crashed into it. 

'Luff, you lubber, ' cried an Irish voice that was Smee's; 'here's therock. Now, then, what we have to do is to hoist the redskin on to it andleave her there to drown. '

It was the work of one brutal moment to land the beautiful girl on therock; she was too proud to offer a vain resistance. 

Quite near the rock, but out of sight, two heads were bobbing up anddown, Peter's and Wendy's. Wendy was crying, for it was the firsttragedy she had seen. Peter had seen many tragedies, but he hadforgotten them all. He was less sorry than Wendy for Tiger Lily: it wastwo against one that angered him, and he meant to save her. An easy waywould have been to wait until the pirates had gone, but he was neverone to choose the easy way. 

There was almost nothing he could not do, and he now imitated the voiceof Hook. 

'Ahoy there, you lubbers, ' he called. It was a marvellous imitation. 

'The captain, ' said the pirates, staring at each other in surprise. 

'He must be swimming out to us, ' Starkey said, when they had looked forhim in vain. 

'We are putting the redskin on the rock, ' Smee called out. 

'Set her free, ' came the astonishing answer. 

'Free!'

'Yes, cut her bonds and let her go. '

'But, captain----'

'At once, d'ye hear, ' cried Peter, 'or I'll plunge my hook in you. '

'This is queer, ' Smee gasped. 

'Better do what the captain orders, ' said Starkey nervously. 

'Ay, ay, ' Smee said, and he cut Tiger Lily's cords. At once like an eelshe slid between Starkey's legs into the water. 

Of course Wendy was very elated over Peter's cleverness; but she knewthat he would be elated also and very likely crow and thus betrayhimself, so at once her hand went out to cover his mouth. But it wasstayed even in the act, for 'Boat ahoy!' rang over the lagoon in Hook'svoice, and this time it was not Peter who had spoken. 

Peter may have been about to crow, but his face puckered in a whistle ofsurprise instead. 

'Boat ahoy!' again came the cry. 

Now Wendy understood. The real Hook was also in the water. 

He was swimming to the boat, and as his men showed a light to guide himhe had soon reached them. In the light of the lantern Wendy saw his hookgrip the boat's side; she saw his evil swarthy face as he rose drippingfrom the water, and, quaking, she would have liked to swim away, butPeter would not budge. He was tingling with life and also top-heavy withconceit. 'Am I not a wonder, oh, I am a wonder!' he whispered to her;and though she thought so also, she was really glad for the sake of hisreputation that no one heard him except herself. 

He signed to her to listen. 

The two pirates were very curious to know what had brought their captainto them, but he sat with his head on his hook in a position of profoundmelancholy. 

'Captain, is all well?' they asked timidly, but he answered with ahollow moan. 

'He sighs, ' said Smee. 

'He sighs again, ' said Starkey. 

'And yet a third time he sighs, ' said Smee. 

'What's up, captain?'

Then at last he spoke passionately. 

'The game's up, ' he cried, 'those boys have found a mother. '

Affrighted though she was, Wendy swelled with pride. 

'O evil day, ' cried Starkey. 

'What's a mother?' asked the ignorant Smee. 

Wendy was so shocked that she exclaimed, 'He doesn't know!' and alwaysafter this she felt that if you could have a pet pirate Smee would beher one. 

Peter pulled her beneath the water, for Hook had started up, crying, 'What was that?'

'I heard nothing, ' said Starkey, raising the lantern over the waters, and as the pirates looked they saw a strange sight. It was the nest Ihave told you of, floating on the lagoon, and the Never bird was sittingon it. 

'See, ' said Hook in answer to Smee's question, 'that is a mother. What alesson. The nest must have fallen into the water, but would the motherdesert her eggs? No. '

There was a break in his voice, as if for a moment he recalled innocentdays when--but he brushed away this weakness with his hook. 

Smee, much impressed, gazed at the bird as the nest was borne past, butthe more suspicious Starkey said, 'If she is a mother, perhaps she ishanging about here to help Peter. '

Hook winced. 'Ay, ' he said, 'that is the fear that haunts me. '

He was roused from this dejection by Smee's eager voice. 

'Captain, ' said Smee, 'could we not kidnap these boys' mother and makeher our mother?'

'It is a princely scheme, ' cried Hook, and at once it took practicalshape in his great brain. 'We will seize the children and carry them tothe boat: the boys we will make walk the plank, and Wendy shall be ourmother. '

Again Wendy forgot herself. 

'Never!' she cried, and bobbed. 

'What was that?'

But they could see nothing. They thought it must have been but a leaf inthe wind. 'Do you agree, my bullies?' asked Hook. 

'There is my hand on it, ' they both said. 

'And there is my hook. Swear. '

'They all swore. By this time they were on the rock, and suddenly Hookremembered Tiger Lily. 

'Where is the redskin?' he demanded abruptly. 

He had a playful humour at moments, and they thought this was one of themoments. 

'That is all right, captain, ' Smee answered complacently; 'we let hergo. '

'Let her go!' cried Hook. 

''Twas your own orders, ' the bo'sun faltered. 

'You called over the water to us to let her go, ' said Starkey. 

'Brimstone and gall, ' thundered Hook, 'what cozening is here?' His facehad gone black with rage, but he saw that they believed their words, and he was startled. 'Lads, ' he said, shaking a little, 'I gave no suchorder. '

'It is passing queer, ' Smee said, and they all fidgeted uncomfortably. Hook raised his voice, but there was a quiver in it. 

'Spirit that haunts this dark lagoon to-night, ' he cried, 'dost hearme?'

Of course Peter should have kept quiet, but of course he did not. Heimmediately answered in Hook's voice:

'Odds, bobs, hammer and tongs, I hear you. '

In that supreme moment Hook did not blanch, even at the gills, but Smeeand Starkey clung to each other in terror. 

'Who are you, stranger, speak?' Hook demanded. 

'I am James Hook, ' replied the voice, 'captain of the _Jolly Roger_. '

'You are not; you are not, ' Hook cried hoarsely. 

'Brimstone and gall, ' the voice retorted, 'say that again, and I'll castanchor in you. '

Hook tried a more ingratiating manner. 'If you are Hook, ' he saidalmost humbly, 'come tell me, who am I?'

'A codfish, ' replied the voice, 'only a codfish. '

'A codfish!' Hook echoed blankly; and it was then, but not till then, that his proud spirit broke. He saw his men draw back from him. 

'Have we been captained all this time by a codfish!' they muttered. 'Itis lowering to our pride. '

They were his dogs snapping at him, but, tragic figure though he hadbecome, he scarcely heeded them. Against such fearful evidence it wasnot their belief in him that he needed, it was his own. He felt his egoslipping from him. 'Don't desert me, bully, ' he whispered hoarsely toit. 

In his dark nature there was a touch of the feminine, as in all thegreat pirates, and it sometimes gave him intuitions. Suddenly he triedthe guessing game. 

'Hook, ' he called, 'have you another voice?'

Now Peter could never resist a game, and he answered blithely in his ownvoice, 'I have. '

'And another name?'

'Ay, ay. '

'Vegetable?' asked Hook. 

'No. '

'Mineral?'

'No. '

'Animal?'

'Yes. '

'Man?'

'No!' This answer rang out scornfully. 

'Boy?'

'Yes. '

'Ordinary boy?'

'No!'

'Wonderful boy?'

To Wendy's pain the answer that rang out this time was 'Yes. '

'Are you in England?'

'No. '

'Are you here?'

'Yes. '

Hook was completely puzzled. 'You ask him some questions, ' he said tothe others, wiping his damp brow. 

Smee reflected. 'I can't think of a thing, ' he said regretfully. 

'Can't guess, can't guess, ' crowed Peter. 'Do you give it up?'

Of course in his pride he was carrying the game too far, and themiscreants saw their chance. 

'Yes, yes, ' they answered eagerly. 

'Well, then, ' he cried, 'I am Peter Pan. '

Pan!

In a moment Hook was himself again, and Smee and Starkey were hisfaithful henchmen. 

'Now we have him, ' Hook shouted. 'Into the water, Smee. Starkey, mindthe boat. Take him dead or alive. '

He leaped as he spoke, and simultaneously came the gay voice of Peter. 

'Are you ready, boys?'

'Ay, ay, ' from various parts of the lagoon. 

'Then lam into the pirates. '

The fight was short and sharp. First to draw blood was John, whogallantly climbed into the boat and held Starkey. There was a fiercestruggle, in which the cutlass was torn from the pirate's grasp. Hewriggled overboard and John leapt after him. The dinghy drifted away. 

Here and there a head bobbed up in the water, and there was a flash ofsteel followed by a cry or a whoop. In the confusion some struck attheir own side. The corkscrew of Smee got Tootles in the fourth rib, buthe was himself pinked in turn by Curly. Farther from the rock Starkeywas pressing Slightly and the twins hard. 

Where all this time was Peter? He was seeking bigger game. 

The others were all brave boys, and they must not be blamed for backingfrom the pirate captain. His iron claw made a circle of dead water roundhim, from which they fled like affrighted fishes. 

But there was one who did not fear him: there was one prepared to enterthat circle. 

Strangely, it was not in the water that they met. Hook rose to the rockto breathe, and at the same moment Peter scaled it on the opposite side. The rock was slippery as a ball, and they had to crawl rather thanclimb. Neither knew that the other was coming. Each feeling for a gripmet the other's arm: in surprise they raised their heads; their faceswere almost touching; so they met. 

Some of the greatest heroes have confessed that just before they fell tothey had a sinking. Had it been so with Peter at that moment I wouldadmit it. After all, this was the only man that the Sea-Cook had feared. But Peter had no sinking, he had one feeling only, gladness; and hegnashed his pretty teeth with joy. Quick as thought he snatched a knifefrom Hook's belt and was about to drive it home, when he saw that he washigher up the rock than his foe. It would not have been fighting fair. He gave the pirate a hand to help him up. 

It was then that Hook bit him. 

Not the pain of this but its unfairness was what dazed Peter. It madehim quite helpless. He could only stare, horrified. Every child isaffected thus the first time he is treated unfairly. All he thinks hehas a right to when he comes to you to be yours is fairness. After youhave been unfair to him he will love you again, but he will neverafterwards be quite the same boy. No one ever gets over the firstunfairness; no one except Peter. He often met it, but he always forgotit. I suppose that was the real difference between him and all the rest. 

So when he met it now it was like the first time; and he could juststare, helpless. Twice the iron hand clawed him. 

A few minutes afterwards the other boys saw Hook in the water strikingwildly for the ship; no elation on his pestilent face now, only whitefear, for the crocodile was in dogged pursuit of him. On ordinaryoccasions the boys would have swum alongside cheering; but now they wereuneasy, for they had lost both Peter and Wendy, and were scouring thelagoon for them, calling them by name. They found the dinghy and wenthome in it, shouting 'Peter, Wendy' as they went, but no answer camesave mocking laughter from the mermaids. 'They must be swimming back orflying, ' the boys concluded. They were not very anxious, they had suchfaith in Peter. They chuckled, boylike, because they would be late forbed; and it was all mother Wendy's fault!

When their voices died away there came cold silence over the lagoon, andthen a feeble cry. 

'Help, help!'

Two small figures were beating against the rock; the girl had faintedand lay on the boy's arm. With a last effort Peter pulled her up therock and then lay down beside her. Even as he also fainted he saw thatthe water was rising. He knew that they would soon be drowned, but hecould do no more. 

As they lay side by side a mermaid caught Wendy by the feet, and beganpulling her softly into the water. Peter, feeling her slip from him, woke with a start, and was just in time to draw her back. But he had totell her the truth. 

'We are on the rock, Wendy, ' he said, 'but it is growing smaller. Soonthe water will be over it. '

She did not understand even now. 

'We must go, ' she said, almost brightly. 

'Yes, ' he answered faintly. 

'Shall we swim or fly, Peter?'

He had to tell her. 

'Do you think you could swim or fly as far as the island, Wendy, withoutmy help?'

She had to admit that she was too tired. 

He moaned. 

'What is it?' she asked, anxious about him at once. 

'I can't help you, Wendy. Hook wounded me. I can neither fly nor swim. '

'Do you mean we shall both be drowned?'

'Look how the water is rising. '

They put their hands over their eyes to shut out the sight. They thoughtthey would soon be no more. As they sat thus something brushed againstPeter as light as a kiss, and stayed there, as if saying timidly, 'Can Ibe of any use?'

It was the tail of a kite, which Michael had made some days before. Ithad torn itself out of his hand and floated away. 

'Michael's kite, ' Peter said without interest, but next moment he hadseized the tail, and was pulling the kite toward him. 

'It lifted Michael off the ground, ' he cried; 'why should it not carryyou?'

'Both of us!'

'It can't lift two; Michael and Curly tried. '

'Let us draw lots, ' Wendy said bravely. 

'And you a lady; never. ' Already he had tied the tail round her. Sheclung to him; she refused to go without him; but with a 'Good-bye, Wendy, ' he pushed her from the rock; and in a few minutes she was borneout of his sight. Peter was alone on the lagoon. 

The rock was very small now; soon it would be submerged. Pale rays oflight tiptoed across the waters; and by and by there was to be heard asound at once the most musical and the most melancholy in the world: themermaids calling to the moon. 

Peter was not quite like other boys; but he was afraid at last. A tremorran through him, like a shudder passing over the sea; but on the sea oneshudder follows another till there are hundreds of them, and Peter feltjust the one. Next moment he was standing erect on the rock again, withthat smile on his face and a drum beating within him. It was saying, 'Todie will be an awfully big adventure. '

[Illustration: "TO DIE WILL BE AN AWFULLY BIG ADVENTURE"]

CHAPTER IX

THE NEVER BIRD

The last sounds Peter heard before he was quite alone were the mermaidsretiring one by one to their bedchambers under the sea. He was too faraway to hear their doors shut; but every door in the coral caves wherethey live rings a tiny bell when it opens or closes (as in all thenicest houses on the mainland), and he heard the bells. 

Steadily the waters rose till they were nibbling at his feet; and topass the time until they made their final gulp, he watched the onlything moving on the lagoon. He thought it was a piece of floating paper, perhaps part of the kite, and wondered idly how long it would take todrift ashore. 

Presently he noticed as an odd thing that it was undoubtedly out uponthe lagoon with some definite purpose, for it was fighting the tide, andsometimes winning; and when it won, Peter, always sympathetic to theweaker side, could not help clapping; it was such a gallant piece ofpaper. 

It was not really a piece of paper; it was the Never bird, makingdesperate efforts to reach Peter on her nest. By working her wings, in away she had learned since the nest fell into the water, she was able tosome extent to guide her strange craft, but by the time Peter recognisedher she was very exhausted. She had come to save him, to give him hernest, though there were eggs in it. I rather wonder at the bird, forthough he had been nice to her, he had also sometimes tormented her. Ican suppose only that, like Mrs. Darling and the rest of them, she wasmelted because he had all his first teeth. 

She called out to him what she had come for, and he called out to herwhat was she doing there; but of course neither of them understood theother's language. In fanciful stories people can talk to the birdsfreely, and I wish for the moment I could pretend that this was such astory, and say that Peter replied intelligently to the Never bird; buttruth is best, and I want to tell only what really happened. Well, notonly could they not understand each other, but they forgot theirmanners. 

'I--want--you--to--get--into--the--nest, ' the bird called, speaking asslowly and distinctly as possible, 'and--then--you--can--drift--ashore, but--I--am--too--tired--to--bring--it--any--nearer--so--you--must--try--to--swim--to--it. '

'What are you quacking about?' Peter answered. 'Why don't you let thenest drift as usual?'

'I--want--you--' the bird said, and repeated it all over. 

Then Peter tried slow and distinct. 

'What--are--you--quacking--about?' and so on. 

The Never bird became irritated; they have very short tempers. 

'You dunderheaded little jay, ' she screamed, 'why don't you do as I tellyou?'

Peter felt that she was calling him names, and at a venture he retortedhotly:

'So are you!'

Then rather curiously they both snapped out the same remark:

'Shut up!'

'Shut up!'

Nevertheless the bird was determined to save him if she could, and byone last mighty effort she propelled the nest against the rock. Then upshe flew; deserting her eggs, so as to make her meaning clear. 

Then at last he understood, and clutched the nest and waved his thanksto the bird as she fluttered overhead. It was not to receive his thanks, however, that she hung there in the sky; it was not even to watch himget into the nest; it was to see what he did with her eggs. 

There were two large white eggs, and Peter lifted them up and reflected. The bird covered her face with her wings, so as not to see the last ofher eggs; but she could not help peeping between the feathers. 

I forget whether I have told you that there was a stave on the rock, driven into it by some buccaneers of long ago to mark the site ofburied treasure. The children had discovered the glittering hoard, andwhen in mischievous mood used to fling showers of moidores, diamonds, pearls and pieces of eight to the gulls, who pounced upon them for food, and then flew away, raging at the scurvy trick that had been played uponthem. The stave was still there, and on it Starkey had hung his hat, adeep tarpaulin, watertight, with a broad brim. Peter put the eggs intothis hat and set it on the lagoon. It floated beautifully. 

The Never bird saw at once what he was up to, and screamed heradmiration of him; and, alas, Peter crowed his agreement with her. Thenhe got into the nest, reared the stave in it as a mast, and hung up hisshirt for a sail. At the same moment the bird fluttered down upon thehat and once more sat snugly on her eggs. She drifted in one direction, and he was borne off in another, both cheering. 

Of course when Peter landed he beached his barque in a place where thebird would easily find it; but the hat was such a great success that sheabandoned the nest. It drifted about till it went to pieces, and oftenStarkey came to the shore of the lagoon, and with many bitter feelingswatched the bird sitting on his hat. As we shall not see her again, itmay be worth mentioning here that all Never birds now build in thatshape of nest, with a broad brim on which the youngsters take an airing. 

Great were the rejoicings when Peter reached the home under the groundalmost as soon as Wendy, who had been carried hither and thither by thekite. Every boy had adventures to tell; but perhaps the biggestadventure of all was that they were several hours late for bed. This soinflated them that they did various dodgy things to get staying up stilllonger, such as demanding bandages; but Wendy, though glorying in havingthem all home again safe and sound, was scandalised by the lateness ofthe hour, and cried, 'To bed, to bed, ' in a voice that had to be obeyed. Next day, however, she was awfully tender, and gave out bandages toevery one; and they played till bed-time at limping about and carryingtheir arms in slings. 

CHAPTER X

THE HAPPY HOME

One important result of the brush on the lagoon was that it made theredskins their friends. Peter had saved Tiger Lily from a dreadful fate, and now there was nothing she and her braves would not do for him. Allnight they sat above, keeping watch over the home under the ground andawaiting the big attack by the pirates which obviously could not be muchlonger delayed. Even by day they hung about, smoking the pipe of peace, and looking almost as if they wanted tit-bits to eat. 

They called Peter the Great White Father, prostrating themselves beforehim; and he liked this tremendously, so that it was not really good forhim. 

'The great white father, ' he would say to them in a very lordly manner, as they grovelled at his feet, 'is glad to see the Piccaninny warriorsprotecting his wigwam from the pirates. '

'Me Tiger Lily, ' that lovely creature would reply. 'Peter Pan save me, me his velly nice friend. Me no let pirates hurt him. '

She was far too pretty to cringe in this way, but Peter thought it hisdue, and he would answer condescendingly, 'It is good. Peter Pan hasspoken. '

Always when he said, 'Peter Pan has spoken, ' it meant that they must nowshut up, and they accepted it humbly in that spirit; but they were by nomeans so respectful to the other boys, whom they looked upon as justordinary braves. They said 'How-do?' to them, and things like that; andwhat annoyed the boys was that Peter seemed to think this all right. 

Secretly Wendy sympathised with them a little, but she was far too loyala housewife to listen to any complaints against father. 'Father knowsbest, ' she always said, whatever her private opinion must be. Herprivate opinion was that the redskins should not call her a squaw. 

We have now reached the evening that was to be known among them as theNight of Nights, because of its adventures and their upshot. The day, asif quietly gathering its forces, had been almost uneventful, and now theredskins in their blankets were at their posts above, while, below, thechildren were having their evening meal; all except Peter, who had goneout to get the time. The way you got the time on the island was to findthe crocodile, and then stay near him till the clock struck. 

This meal happened to be a make-believe tea, and they sat round theboard, guzzling in their greed; and really, what with their chatter andrecriminations, the noise, as Wendy said, was positively deafening. Tobe sure, she did not mind noise, but she simply would not have themgrabbing things, and then excusing themselves by saying that Tootles hadpushed their elbow. There was a fixed rule that they must never hit backat meals, but should refer the matter of dispute to Wendy by raising theright arm politely and saying, 'I complain of so-and-so'; but whatusually happened was that they forgot to do this or did it too much. 

'Silence, ' cried Wendy when for the twentieth time she had told themthat they were not all to speak at once. 'Is your calabash empty, Slightly darling?'

'Not quite empty, mummy, ' Slightly said, after looking into an imaginarymug. 

'He hasn't even begun to drink his milk, ' Nibs interposed. 

This was telling, and Slightly seized his chance. 

'I complain of Nibs, ' he cried promptly. 

John, however, had held up his hand first. 

'Well, John?'

'May I sit in Peter's chair, as he is not here?'

'Sit in father's chair, John!' Wendy was scandalised. 'Certainly not. '

'He is not really our father, ' John answered. 'He didn't even know how afather does till I showed him. '

This was grumbling. 'We complain of John, ' cried the twins. 

Tootles held up his hand. He was so much the humblest of them, indeed hewas the only humble one, that Wendy was specially gentle with him. 

'I don't suppose, ' Tootles said diffidently, 'that I could be father. '

'No, Tootles. '

Once Tootles began, which was not very often, he had a silly way ofgoing on. 

'As I can't be father, ' he said heavily, 'I don't suppose, Michael, youwould let me be baby?'

'No, I won't, ' Michael rapped out. He was already in his basket. 

'As I can't be baby, ' Tootles said, getting heavier and heavier, 'do youthink I could be a twin?'

'No, indeed, ' replied the twins; 'it's awfully difficult to be a twin. '

'As I can't be anything important, ' said Tootles, 'would any of you liketo see me do a trick?'

'No, ' they all replied. 

Then at last he stopped. 'I hadn't really any hope, ' he said. 

The hateful telling broke out again. 

'Slightly is coughing on the table. '

'The twins began with mammee-apples. '

'Curly is taking both tappa rolls and yams. '

'Nibs is speaking with his mouth full. '

'I complain of the twins. '

'I complain of Curly. '

'I complain of Nibs. '

'Oh dear, oh dear, ' cried Wendy, 'I'm sure I sometimes think thatchildren are more trouble than they are worth. '

She told them to clear away, and sat down to her work-basket: a heavyload of stockings and every knee with a hole in it as usual. 

'Wendy, ' remonstrated Michael, 'I'm too big for a cradle. '

'I must have somebody in a cradle, ' she said almost tartly, 'and you arethe littlest. A cradle is such a nice homely thing to have about ahouse. '

While she sewed they played around her; such a group of happy faces anddancing limbs lit up by that romantic fire. It had become a veryfamiliar scene this in the home under the ground, but we are looking onit for the last time. 

There was a step above, and Wendy, you may be sure, was the first torecognise it. 

'Children, I hear your father's step. He likes you to meet him at thedoor. '

Above, the redskins crouched before Peter. 

'Watch well, braves. I have spoken. '

And then, as so often before, the gay children dragged him from histree. As so often before, but never again. 

He had brought nuts for the boys as well as the correct time for Wendy. 

'Peter, you just spoil them, you know, ' Wendy simpered. 

'Ah, old lady, ' said Peter, hanging up his gun. 

'It was me told him mothers are called old lady, ' Michael whispered toCurly. 

'I complain of Michael, ' said Curly instantly. 

The first twin came to Peter. 'Father, we want to dance. '

'Dance away, my little man, ' said Peter, who was in high good humour. 

'But we want you to dance. '

Peter was really the best dancer among them, but he pretended to bescandalised. 

'Me! My old bones would rattle. '

'And mummy too. '

'What, ' cried Wendy, 'the mother of such an armful, dance!'

'But on a Saturday night, ' Slightly insinuated. 

It was not really Saturday night, at least it may have been, for theyhad long lost count of the days; but always if they wanted to doanything special they said this was Saturday night, and then they didit. 

'Of course it is Saturday night, Peter, ' Wendy said, relenting. 

'People of our figure, Wendy. '

'But it is only among our own progeny. '

'True, true. '

So they were told they could dance, but they must put on their nightiesfirst. 

'Ah, old lady, ' Peter said aside to Wendy, warming himself by the fireand looking down at her as she sat turning a heel, 'there is nothingmore pleasant, of an evening for you and me when the day's toil is overthan to rest by the fire with the little ones near by. '

'It is sweet, Peter, isn't it?' Wendy said, frightfully gratified. 'Peter, I think Curly has your nose. '

'Michael takes after you. '

She went to him and put her hand on his shoulder. 

'Dear Peter, ' she said, 'with such a large family, of course, I have nowpassed my best, but you don't want to change me, do you?'

'No, Wendy. '

Certainly he did not want a change, but he looked at her uncomfortably;blinking, you know, like one not sure whether he was awake or asleep. 

'Peter, what is it?'

'I was just thinking, ' he said, a little scared. 'It is onlymake-believe, isn't it, that I am their father?'

'Oh yes, ' Wendy said primly. 

'You see, ' he continued apologetically, 'it would make me seem so old tobe their real father. '

'But they are ours, Peter, yours and mine. '

'But not really, Wendy?' he asked anxiously. 

'Not if you don't wish it, ' she replied; and she distinctly heard hissigh of relief. 'Peter, ' she asked, trying to speak firmly, 'what areyour exact feelings for me?'

'Those of a devoted son, Wendy. '

'I thought so, ' she said, and went and sat by herself at the extreme endof the room. 

'You are so queer, ' he said, frankly puzzled, 'and Tiger Lily is justthe same. There is something she wants to be to me, but she says it isnot my mother. '

'No, indeed, it is not, ' Wendy replied with frightful emphasis. Now weknow why she was prejudiced against the redskins. 

'Then what is it?'

'It isn't for a lady to tell. '

'Oh, very well, ' Peter said, a little nettled. 'Perhaps Tinker Bell willtell me. '

'Oh yes, Tinker Bell will tell you, ' Wendy retorted scornfully. 'She isan abandoned little creature. '

Here Tink, who was in her boudoir, eavesdropping, squeaked out somethingimpudent. 

'She says she glories in being abandoned, ' Peter interpreted. 

He had a sudden idea. 'Perhaps Tink wants to be my mother?'

'You silly ass!' cried Tinker Bell in a passion. 

She had said it so often that Wendy needed no translation. 

'I almost agree with her, ' Wendy snapped. Fancy Wendy snapping. But shehad been much tried, and she little knew what was to happen before thenight was out. If she had known she would not have snapped. 

None of them knew. Perhaps it was best not to know. Their ignorance gavethem one more glad hour; and as it was to be their last hour on theisland, let us rejoice that there were sixty glad minutes in it. Theysang and danced in their night-gowns. Such a deliciously creepy song itwas, in which they pretended to be frightened at their own shadows;little witting that so soon shadows would close in upon them, from whomthey would shrink in real fear. So uproariously gay was the dance, andhow they buffeted each other on the bed and out of it! It was a pillowfight rather than a dance, and when it was finished, the pillowsinsisted on one bout more, like partners who know that they may nevermeet again. The stories they told, before it was time for Wendy'sgood-night story! Even Slightly tried to tell a story that night, butthe beginning was so fearfully dull that it appalled even himself, andhe said gloomily:

'Yes, it is a dull beginning. I say, let us pretend that it is the end. '

And then at last they all got into bed for Wendy's story, the story theyloved best, the story Peter hated. Usually when she began to tell thisstory he left the room or put his hands over his ears; and possibly ifhe had done either of those things this time they might all still be onthe island. But to-night he remained on his stool; and we shall see whathappened. 

CHAPTER XI

WENDY'S STORY

'Listen, then, ' said Wendy, settling down to her story, with Michael ather feet and seven boys in the bed. 'There was once a gentleman----'

'I had rather he had been a lady, ' Curly said. 

'I wish he had been a white rat, ' said Nibs. 

'Quiet, ' their mother admonished them. 'There was a lady also, and----'

'O mummy, ' cried the first twin, 'you mean that there is a lady also, don't you? She is not dead, is she?'

'Oh no. '

'I am awfully glad she isn't dead, ' said Tootles. 'Are you glad, John?'

'Of course I am. '

'Are you glad, Nibs?'

'Rather. '

'Are you glad, Twins?'

'We are just glad. '

'Oh dear, ' sighed Wendy. 

'Little less noise there, ' Peter called out, determined that she shouldhave fair play, however beastly a story it might be in his opinion. 

'The gentleman's name, ' Wendy continued, 'was Mr. Darling, and her namewas Mrs. Darling. '

'I knew them, ' John said, to annoy the others. 

'I think I knew them, ' said Michael rather doubtfully. 

'They were married, you know, ' explained Wendy, 'and what do you thinkthey had?'

'White rats, ' cried Nibs, inspired. 

'No. '

'It's awfully puzzling, ' said Tootles, who knew the story by heart. 

'Quiet, Tootles. They had three descendants. '

'What is descendants?'

'Well, you are one, Twin. 

'Do you hear that, John? I am a descendant. '

'Descendants are only children, ' said John. 

'Oh dear, oh dear, ' sighed Wendy. 'Now these three children had afaithful nurse called Nana; but Mr. Darling was angry with her andchained her up in the yard; and so all the children flew away. '

'It's an awfully good story, ' said Nibs. 

'They flew away, ' Wendy continued, 'to the Neverland, where the lostchildren are. '

'I just thought they did, ' Curly broke in excitedly. 'I don't know howit is, but I just thought they did. '

'O Wendy, ' cried Tootles, 'was one of the lost children called Tootles?'

'Yes, he was. '

'I am in a story. Hurrah, I am in a story, Nibs. '

'Hush. Now I want you to consider the feelings of the unhappy parentswith all their children flown away. '

'Oo!' they all moaned, though they were not really considering thefeelings of the unhappy parents one jot. 

'Think of the empty beds!'

'Oo!'

'It's awfully sad, ' the first twin said cheerfully. 

'I don't see how it can have a happy ending, ' said the second twin. 'Doyou, Nibs?'

'I'm frightfully anxious. '

'If you knew how great is a mother's love, ' Wendy told themtriumphantly, 'you would have no fear. ' She had now come to the partthat Peter hated. 

'I do like a mother's love, ' said Tootles, hitting Nibs with a pillow. 'Do you like a mother's love, Nibs?'

'I do just, ' said Nibs, hitting back. 

'You see, ' Wendy said complacently, 'our heroine knew that the motherwould always leave the window open for her children to fly back by; sothey stayed away for years and had a lovely time. '

'Did they ever go back?'

'Let us now, ' said Wendy, bracing herself for her finest effort, 'take apeep into the future'; and they all gave themselves the twist that makespeeps into the future easier. 'Years have rolled by; and who is thiselegant lady of uncertain age alighting at London Station?'

'O Wendy, who is she?' cried Nibs, every bit as excited as if he didn'tknow. 

'Can it be--yes--no--it is--the fair Wendy!'

'Oh!'

'And who are the two noble portly figures accompanying her, now grown toman's estate? Can they be John and Michael? They are!'

'Oh!'

'"See, dear brothers, " says Wendy, pointing upwards, '"there is thewindow still standing open. Ah, now we are rewarded for our sublimefaith in a mother's love. " So up they flew to their mummy and daddy; andpen cannot describe the happy scene, over which we draw a veil. '

That was the story, and they were as pleased with it as the fairnarrator herself. Everything just as it should be, you see. Off we skiplike the most heartless things in the world, which is what children are, but so attractive; and we have an entirely selfish time; and then whenwe have need of special attention we nobly return for it, confident thatwe shall be embraced instead of smacked. 

So great indeed was their faith in a mother's love that they felt theycould afford to be callous for a bit longer. 

But there was one there who knew better; and when Wendy finished heuttered a hollow groan. 

'What is it, Peter?' she cried, running to him, thinking he was ill. Shefelt him solicitously, lower down than his chest. 'Where is it, Peter?'

'It isn't that kind of pain, ' Peter replied darkly. 

'Then what kind is it?'

'Wendy, you are wrong about mothers. '

They all gathered round him in affright, so alarming was his agitation;and with a fine candour he told them what he had hitherto concealed. 

'Long ago, ' he said, 'I thought like you that my mother would alwayskeep the window open for me; so I stayed away for moons and moons andmoons, and then flew back; but the window was barred, for mother hadforgotten all about me, and there was another little boy sleeping in mybed. '

I am not sure that this was true, but Peter thought it was true; and itscared them. 

'Are you sure mothers are like that?'

'Yes. '

So this was the truth about mothers. The toads!

Still it is best to be careful; and no one knows so quickly as a childwhen he should give in. 'Wendy, let us go home, ' cried John and Michaeltogether. 

'Yes, ' she said, clutching them. 

'Not to-night?' asked the lost boys bewildered. They knew in what theycalled their hearts that one can get on quite well without a mother, andthat it is only the mothers who think you can't. 

'At once, ' Wendy replied resolutely, for the horrible thought had cometo her: 'Perhaps mother is in half mourning by this time. '

This dread made her forgetful of what must be Peter's feelings, and shesaid to him rather sharply, 'Peter, will you make the necessaryarrangements?'

'If you wish it, ', he replied, as coolly as if she had asked him to passthe nuts. 

[Illustration: WENDY'S STORY]

Not so much as a sorry-to-lose-you between them! If she did not mind theparting, he was going to show her, was Peter, that neither did he. 

But of course he cared very much; and he was so full of wrath againstgrown-ups, who, as usual, were spoiling everything, that as soon as hegot inside his tree he breathed intentionally quick short breaths at therate of about five to a second. He did this because there is a saying inthe Neverland that, every time you breathe, a grown-up dies; and Peterwas killing them off vindictively as fast as possible. 

Then having given the necessary instructions to the redskins he returnedto the home, where an unworthy scene had been enacted in his absence. Panic-stricken at the thought of losing Wendy the lost boys had advancedupon her threateningly. 

'It will be worse than before she came, ' they cried. 

'We shan't let her go. '

'Let's keep her prisoner. '

'Ay, chain her up. '

In her extremity an instinct told her to which of them to turn. 

'Tootles, ' she cried, 'I appeal to you. '

Was it not strange? she appealed to Tootles, quite the silliest one. 

Grandly, however, did Tootles respond. For that one moment he droppedhis silliness and spoke with dignity. 

'I am just Tootles, ' he said, 'and nobody minds me. But the first whodoes not behave to Wendy like an English gentleman I will blood himseverely. '

He drew his hanger; and for that instant his sun was at noon. The othersheld back uneasily. Then Peter returned, and they saw at once that theywould get no support from him. He would keep no girl in the Neverlandagainst her will. 

'Wendy, ' he said, striding up and down, 'I have asked the redskins toguide you through the wood, as flying tires you so. '

'Thank you, Peter. '

'Then, ' he continued, in the short sharp voice of one accustomed to beobeyed, 'Tinker Bell will take you across the sea. Wake her, Nibs. '

Nibs had to knock twice before he got an answer, though Tink had reallybeen sitting up in bed listening for some time. 

'Who are you? How dare you? Go away, ' she cried. 

'You are to get up, Tink, ' Nibs called, 'and take Wendy on a journey. '

Of course Tink had been delighted to hear that Wendy was going; but shewas jolly well determined not to be her courier, and she said so instill more offensive language. Then she pretended to be asleep again. 

'She says she won't, ' Nibs exclaimed, aghast at such insubordination, whereupon Peter went sternly toward the young lady's chamber. 

'Tink, ' he rapped out, 'if you don't get up and dress at once I willopen the curtains, and then we shall all see you in your _négligée_. '

This made her leap to the floor. 'Who said I wasn't getting up?' shecried. 

In the meantime the boys were gazing very forlornly at Wendy, nowequipped with John and Michael for the journey. By this time they weredejected, not merely because they were about to lose her, but alsobecause they felt that she was going off to something nice to which theyhad not been invited. Novelty was beckoning to them as usual. 

Crediting them with a nobler feeling Wendy melted. 

'Dear ones, ' she said, 'if you will all come with me I feel almost sureI can get my father and mother to adopt you. '

The invitation was meant specially for Peter; but each of the boys wasthinking exclusively of himself, and at once they jumped with joy. 

'But won't they think us rather a handful?' Nibs asked in the middle ofhis jump. 

'Oh no, ' said Wendy, rapidly thinking it out, 'it will only mean havinga few beds in the drawing-room; they can be hidden behind screens onfirst Thursdays. '

'Peter, can we go?' they all cried imploringly. They took it for grantedthat if they went he would go also, but really they scarcely cared. Thuschildren are ever ready, when novelty knocks, to desert their dearestones. 

'All right, ' Peter replied with a bitter smile; and immediately theyrushed to get their things. 

'And now, Peter, ' Wendy said, thinking she had put everything right, 'Iam going to give you your medicine before you go. ' She loved to givethem medicine, and undoubtedly gave them too much. Of course it wasonly water, but it was out of a calabash, and she always shook thecalabash and counted the drops, which gave it a certain medicinalquality. On this occasion, however, she did not give Peter his draught, for just as she had prepared it, she saw a look on his face that madeher heart sink. 

'Get your things, Peter, ' she cried, shaking. 

'No, ' he answered, pretending indifference, 'I am not going with you, Wendy. '

'Yes, Peter. '

'No. '

To show that her departure would leave him unmoved, he skipped up anddown the room, playing gaily on his heartless pipes. She had to runabout after him, though it was rather undignified. 

'To find your mother, ' she coaxed. 

Now, if Peter had ever quite had a mother, he no longer missed her. Hecould do very well without one. He had thought them out, and rememberedonly their bad points. 

'No, no, ' he told Wendy decisively; 'perhaps she would say I was old, and I just want always to be a little boy and to have fun. '

'But, Peter----'

'No. '

And so the others had to be told. 

'Peter isn't coming. '

Peter not coming! They gazed blankly at him, their sticks over theirbacks, and on each stick a bundle. Their first thought was that if Peterwas not going he had probably changed his mind about letting them go. 

But he was far too proud for that. 'If you find your mothers, ' he saiddarkly, 'I hope you will like them. '

The awful cynicism of this made an uncomfortable impression, and most ofthem began to look rather doubtful. After all, their faces said, werethey not noodles to want to go?

'Now then, ' cried Peter, 'no fuss, no blubbering; good-bye, Wendy'; andhe held out his hand cheerily, quite as if they must really go now, forhe had something important to do. 

She had to take his hand, as there was no indication that he wouldprefer a thimble. 

'You will remember about changing your flannels, Peter?' she said, lingering over him. She was always so particular about their flannels. 

'Yes. '

'And you will take your medicine?'

'Yes. '

That seemed to be everything; and an awkward pause followed. Peter, however, was not the kind that breaks down before people. 'Are youready, Tinker Bell?' he called out. 

'Ay, ay. '

'Then lead the way. '

Tink darted up the nearest tree; but no one followed her, for it was atthis moment that the pirates made their dreadful attack upon theredskins. Above, where all had been so still, the air was rent withshrieks and the clash of steel. Below, there was dead silence. Mouthsopened and remained open. Wendy fell on her knees, but her arms wereextended toward Peter. All arms were extended to him, as if suddenlyblown in his direction; they were beseeching him mutely not to desertthem. As for Peter, he seized his sword, the same he thought he hadslain Barbecue with; and the lust of battle was in his eye. 

CHAPTER XII

THE CHILDREN ARE CARRIED OFF

The pirate attack had been a complete surprise: a sure proof that theunscrupulous Hook had conducted it improperly, for to surprise redskinsfairly is beyond the wit of the white man. 

By all the unwritten laws of savage warfare it is always the redskin whoattacks, and with the wiliness of his race he does it just before thedawn, at which time he knows the courage of the whites to be at itslowest ebb. The white men have in the meantime made a rude stockade onthe summit of yonder undulating ground, at the foot of which a streamruns; for it is destruction to be too far from water. There they awaitthe onslaught, the inexperienced ones clutching their revolvers andtreading on twigs, but the old hands sleeping tranquilly until justbefore the dawn. Through the long black night the savage scouts wriggle, snake-like, among the grass without stirring a blade. The brushwoodcloses behind them as silently as sand into which a mole has dived. Nota sound is to be heard, save when they give vent to a wonderfulimitation of the lonely call of the coyote. The cry is answered by otherbraves; and some of them do it even better than the coyotes, who are notvery good at it. So the chill hours wear on, and the long suspense ishorribly trying to the paleface who has to live through it for the firsttime; but to the trained hand those ghastly calls and still ghastliersilences are but an intimation of how the night is marching. 

That this was the usual procedure was so well known to Hook that indisregarding it he cannot be excused on the plea of ignorance. 

The Piccaninnies, on their part, trusted implicitly to his honour, andtheir whole action of the night stands out in marked contrast to his. They left nothing undone that was consistent with the reputation oftheir tribe. With that alertness of the senses which is at once themarvel and despair of civilised peoples, they knew that the pirates wereon the island from the moment one of them trod on a dry stick; and in anincredibly short space of time the coyote cries began. Every foot ofground between the spot where Hook had landed his forces and the homeunder the trees was stealthily examined by braves wearing theirmocassins with the heels in front. They found only one hillock with astream at its base, so that Hook had no choice; here he must establishhimself and wait for just before the dawn. Everything being thus mappedout with almost diabolical cunning, the main body of the redskins foldedtheir blankets around them, and in the phlegmatic manner that is to themthe pearl of manhood squatted above the children's home, awaiting thecold moment when they should deal pale death. 

Here dreaming, though wide-awake, of the exquisite tortures to whichthey were to put him at break of day, those confiding savages were foundby the treacherous Hook. From the accounts afterwards supplied by suchof the scouts as escaped the carnage, he does not seem even to havepaused at the rising ground, though it is certain that in that greylight he must have seen it: no thought of waiting to be attacked appearsfrom first to last to have visited his subtle mind; he would not evenhold off till the night was nearly spent; on he pounded with no policybut to fall to. What could the bewildered scouts do, masters as theywere of every warlike artifice save this one, but trot helplessly afterhim, exposing themselves fatally to view, the while they gave patheticutterance to the coyote cry. 

Around the brave Tiger Lily were a dozen of her stoutest warriors, andthey suddenly saw the perfidious pirates bearing down upon them. Fellfrom their eyes then the film through which they had looked at victory. No more would they torture at the stake. For them the happyhunting-grounds now. They knew it; but as their fathers' sons theyacquitted themselves. Even then they had time to gather in a phalanxthat would have been hard to break had they risen quickly, but this theywere forbidden to do by the traditions of their race. It is written thatthe noble savage must never express surprise in the presence of thewhite. Thus terrible as the sudden appearance of the pirates must havebeen to them, they remained stationary for a moment, not a musclemoving; as if the foe had come by invitation. Then, indeed, thetradition gallantly upheld, they seized their weapons, and the air wastorn with the warcry; but it was now too late. 

It is no part of ours to describe what was a massacre rather than afight. Thus perished many of the flower of the Piccaninny tribe. Not allunavenged did they die, for with Lean Wolf fell Alf Mason, to disturbthe Spanish Main no more; and among others who bit the dust were Geo. Scourie, Chas. Turley, and the Alsatian Foggerty. Turley fell to thetomahawk of the terrible Panther, who ultimately cut a way through thepirates with Tiger Lily and a small remnant of the tribe. 

To what extent Hook is to blame for his tactics on this occasion is forthe historian to decide. Had he waited on the rising ground till theproper hour he and his men would probably have been butchered; and injudging him it is only fair to take this into account. What he shouldperhaps have done was to acquaint his opponents that he proposed tofollow a new method. On the other hand this, as destroying the elementof surprise, would have made his strategy of no avail, so that the wholequestion is beset with difficulties. One cannot at least withhold areluctant admiration for the wit that had conceived so bold a scheme, and the fell genius with which it was carried out. 

What were his own feelings about himself at that triumphant moment? Fainwould his dogs have known, as breathing heavily and wiping theircutlasses, they gathered at a discreet distance from his hook, andsquinted through their ferret eyes at this extraordinary man. Elationmust have been in his heart, but his face did not reflect it: ever adark and solitary enigma, he stood aloof from his followers in spirit asin substance. 

The night's work was not yet over, for it was not the redskins he hadcome out to destroy; they were but the bees to be smoked, so that heshould get at the honey. It was Pan he wanted, Pan and Wendy and theirband, but chiefly Pan. 

Peter was such a small boy that one tends to wonder at the man's hatredof him. True he had flung Hook's arm to the crocodile; but even this andthe increased insecurity of life to which it led, owing to thecrocodile's pertinacity, hardly account for a vindictiveness sorelentless and malignant. The truth is that there was a something aboutPeter which goaded the pirate captain to frenzy. It was not his courage, it was not his engaging appearance, it was not--. There is no beatingabout the bush, for we know quite well what it was, and have got totell. It was Peter's cockiness. 

This had got on Hook's nerves; it made his iron claw twitch, and atnight it disturbed him like an insect. While Peter lived, the torturedman felt that he was a lion in a cage into which a sparrow had come. 

The question now was how to get down the trees, or how to get his dogsdown? He ran his greedy eyes over them, searching for the thinnest ones. They wriggled uncomfortably, for they knew he would not scruple to ramthem down with poles. 

In the meantime, what of the boys? We have seen them at the first clangof weapons, turned as it were into stone figures, open-mouthed, allappealing with outstretched arms to Peter; and we return to them astheir mouths close, and their arms fall to their sides. The pandemoniumabove has ceased almost as suddenly as it arose, passed like a fiercegust of wind; but they know that in the passing it has determined theirfate. 

Which side had won?

The pirates, listening avidly at the mouths of the trees, heard thequestion put by every boy, and alas, they also heard Peter's answer. 

'If the redskins have won, ' he said, 'they will beat the tom-tom; it isalways their sign of victory. '

Now Smee had found the tom-tom, and was at that moment sitting on it. 'You will never hear the tom-tom again, ' he muttered, but inaudibly ofcourse, for strict silence had been enjoined. To his amazement Hooksigned to him to beat the tom-tom; and slowly there came to Smee anunderstanding of the dreadful wickedness of the order. Never, probably, had this simple man admired Hook so much. 

Twice Smee beat upon the instrument, and then stopped to listengleefully. 

'The tom-tom, ' the miscreants heard Peter cry; 'an Indian victory!'

The doomed children answered with a cheer that was music to the blackhearts above, and almost immediately they repeated their goodbyes toPeter. This puzzled the pirates, but all their other feelings wereswallowed by a base delight that the enemy were about to come up thetrees. They smirked at each other and rubbed their hands. Rapidly andsilently Hook gave his orders: one man to each tree, and the others toarrange themselves in a line two yards apart. 

CHAPTER XIII

DO YOU BELIEVE IN FAIRIES?

The more quickly this horror is disposed of the better. The first toemerge from his tree was Curly. He rose out of it into the arms ofCecco, who flung him to Smee, who flung him to Starkey, who flung him toBill Jukes, who flung him to Noodler, and so he was tossed from one toanother till he fell at the feet of the black pirate. All the boys wereplucked from their trees in this ruthless manner; and several of themwere in the air at a time, like bales of goods flung from hand to hand. 

[Illustration: FLUNG LIKE BALES]

A different treatment was accorded to Wendy, who came last. Withironical politeness Hook raised his hat to her, and, offering her hisarm, escorted her to the spot where the others were being gagged. Hedid it with such an air, he was so frightfully _distingué_, that she wastoo fascinated to cry out. She was only a little girl. 

Perhaps it is tell-tale to divulge that for a moment Hook entranced her, and we tell on her only because her slip led to strange results. Had shehaughtily unhanded him (and we should have loved to write it of her), she would have been hurled through the air like the others, and thenHook would probably not have been present at the tying of the children;and had he not been at the tying he would not have discovered Slightly'ssecret, and without the secret he could not presently have made his foulattempt on Peter's life. 

They were tied to prevent their flying away, doubled up with their kneesclose to their ears; and for the trussing of them the black pirate hadcut a rope into nine equal pieces. All went well until Slightly's turncame, when he was found to be like those irritating parcels that use upall the string in going round and leave no tags with which to tie aknot. The pirates kicked him in their rage, just as you kick the parcel(though in fairness you should kick the string); and strange to say itwas Hook who told them to belay their violence. His lip was curled withmalicious triumph. While his dogs were merely sweating because everytime they tried to pack the unhappy lad tight in one part he bulged outin another, Hook's master mind had gone far beneath Slightly's surface, probing not for effects but for causes; and his exultation showed thathe had found them. Slightly, white to the gills, knew that Hook hadsurprised his secret, which was this, that no boy so blown out could usea tree wherein an average man need stick. Poor Slightly, most wretchedof all the children now, for he was in a panic about Peter, bitterlyregretted what he had done. Madly addicted to the drinking of water whenhe was hot, he had swelled in consequence to his present girth, andinstead of reducing himself to fit his tree he had, unknown to theothers, whittled his tree to make it fit him. 

Sufficient of this Hook guessed to persuade him that Peter at last layat his mercy; but no word of the dark design that now formed in thesubterranean caverns of his mind crossed his lips; he merely signed thatthe captives were to be conveyed to the ship, and that he would bealone. 

How to convey them? Hunched up in their ropes they might indeed berolled down hill like barrels, but most of the way lay through a morass. Again Hook's genius surmounted difficulties. He indicated that thelittle house must be used as a conveyance. The children were flung intoit, four stout pirates raised it on their shoulders, the others fell inbehind, and singing the hateful pirate chorus the strange procession setoff through the wood. I don't know whether any of the children werecrying; if so, the singing drowned the sound; but as the little housedisappeared in the forest, a brave though tiny jet of smoke issued fromits chimney as if defying Hook. 

Hook saw it, and it did Peter a bad service. It dried up any trickle ofpity for him that may have remained in the pirate's infuriated breast. 

The first thing he did on finding himself alone in the fast fallingnight was to tiptoe to Slightly's tree, and make sure that it providedhim with a passage. Then for long he remained brooding; his hat of illomen on the sward, so that a gentle breeze which had arisen might playrefreshingly through his hair. Dark as were his thoughts his blue eyeswere as soft as the periwinkle. Intently he listened for any sound fromthe nether world, but all was as silent below as above; the house underthe ground seemed to be but one more empty tenement in the void. Wasthat boy asleep, or did he stand waiting at the foot of Slightly's tree, with his dagger in his hand?

There was no way of knowing, save by going down. Hook let his cloak slipsoftly to the ground, and then biting his lips till a lewd blood stoodon them, he stepped into the tree. He was a brave man; but for a momenthe had to stop there and wipe his brow, which was dripping like acandle. Then silently he let himself go into the unknown. 

He arrived unmolested at the foot of the shaft, and stood still again, biting at his breath, which had almost left him. As his eyes becameaccustomed to the dim light various objects in the home under the treestook shape; but the only one on which his greedy gaze rested, longsought for and found at last, was the great bed. On the bed lay Peterfast asleep. 

Unaware of the tragedy being enacted above, Peter had continued, for alittle time after the children left, to play gaily on his pipes: nodoubt rather a forlorn attempt to prove to himself that he did not care. Then he decided not to take his medicine, so as to grieve Wendy. Then helay down on the bed outside the coverlet, to vex her still more; for shehad always tucked them inside it, because you never know that you maynot grow chilly at the turn of the night. Then he nearly cried; but itstruck him how indignant she would be if he laughed instead; so helaughed a haughty laugh and fell asleep in the middle of it. 

Sometimes, though not often, he had dreams, and they were more painfulthan the dreams of other boys. For hours he could not be separated fromthese dreams, though he wailed piteously in them. They had to do, Ithink, with the riddle of his existence. At such times it had beenWendy's custom to take him out of bed and sit with him on her lap, soothing him in dear ways of her own invention, and when he grew calmerto put him back to bed before he quite woke up, so that he should notknow of the indignity to which she had subjected him. But on thisoccasion he had fallen at once into a dreamless sleep. One arm droppedover the edge of the bed, one leg was arched, and the unfinished part ofhis laugh was stranded on his mouth, which was open, showing the littlepearls. 

Thus defenceless Hook found him. He stood silent at the foot of the treelooking across the chamber at his enemy. Did no feeling of compassiondisturb his sombre breast? The man was not wholly evil; he loved flowers(I have been told) and sweet music (he was himself no mean performer onthe harpsichord); and, let it be frankly admitted, the idyllic nature ofthe scene stirred him profoundly. Mastered by his better self he wouldhave returned reluctantly up the tree, but for one thing. 

What stayed him was Peter's impertinent appearance as he slept. The openmouth, the drooping arm, the arched knee: they were such apersonification of cockiness as, taken together, will never again onemay hope be presented to eyes so sensitive to their offensiveness. Theysteeled Hook's heart. If his rage had broken him into a hundred piecesevery one of them would have disregarded the incident, and leapt at thesleeper. 

Though a light from the one lamp shone dimly on the bed Hook stood indarkness himself, and at the first stealthy step forward he discoveredan obstacle, the door of Slightly's tree. It did not entirely fill theaperture, and he had been looking over it. Feeling for the catch, hefound to his fury that it was low down, beyond his reach. To hisdisordered brain it seemed then that the irritating quality in Peter'sface and figure visibly increased, and he rattled the door and flunghimself against it. Was his enemy to escape him after all. 

But what was that? The red in his eye had caught sight of Peter'smedicine standing on a ledge within easy reach. He fathomed what it wasstraightway, and immediately he knew that the sleeper was in his power. 

Lest he should be taken alive, Hook always carried about his person adreadful drug, blended by himself of all the death-dealing rings thathad come into his possession. These he had boiled down into a yellowliquid quite unknown to science, which was probably the most virulentpoison in existence. 

Five drops of this he now added to Peter's cup. His hand shook, but itwas in exultation rather than in shame. As he did it he avoided glancingat the sleeper, but not lest pity should unnerve him; merely to avoidspilling. Then one long gloating look he cast upon his victim, andturning, wormed his way with difficulty up the tree. As he emerged atthe top he looked the very spirit of evil breaking from its hole. Donning his hat at its most rakish angle, he wound his cloak around him, holding one end in front as if to conceal his person from the night, ofwhich it was the blackest part, and muttering strangely to himself stoleaway through the trees. 

Peter slept on. The light guttered and went out, leaving the tenement indarkness; but still he slept. It must have been not less than teno'clock by the crocodile, when he suddenly sat up in his bed, wakenedby he knew not what. It was a soft cautious tapping on the door of histree. 

Soft and cautious, but in that stillness it was sinister. Peter felt forhis dagger till his hand gripped it. Then he spoke. 

'Who is that?'

For long there was no answer: then again the knock. 

'Who are you?'

No answer. 

He was thrilled, and he loved being thrilled. In two strides he reachedhis door. Unlike Slightly's door it filled the aperture, so that hecould not see beyond it, nor could the one knocking see him. 

'I won't open unless you speak, ' Peter cried. 

Then at last the visitor spoke, in a lovely bell-like voice. 

'Let me in, Peter. '

It was Tink, and quickly he unbarred to her. She flew in excitedly, herface flushed and her dress stained with mud. 

'What is it?'

'Oh, you could never guess, ' she cried, and offered him three guesses. 'Out with it!' he shouted; and in one ungrammatical sentence, as long asthe ribbons conjurers pull from their mouths, she told of the capture ofWendy and the boys. 

Peter's heart bobbed up and down as he listened. Wendy bound, and on thepirate ship; she who loved everything to be just so!

'I'll rescue her, ' he cried, leaping at his weapons. As he leapt hethought of something he could do to please her. He could take hismedicine. 

His hand closed on the fatal draught. 

'No!' shrieked Tinker Bell, who had heard Hook muttering about his deedas he sped through the forest. 

'Why not?'

'It is poisoned. '

'Poisoned? Who could have poisoned it?'

'Hook. '

'Don't be silly. How could Hook have got down here?'

Alas, Tinker Bell could not explain this, for even she did not know thedark secret of Slightly's tree. Nevertheless Hook's words had left noroom for doubt. The cup was poisoned. 

'Besides, ' said Peter, quite believing himself, 'I never fell asleep. '

He raised the cup. No time for words now; time for deeds; and with oneof her lightning movements Tink got between his lips and the draught, and drained it to the dregs. 

'Why, Tink, how dare you drink my medicine?'

But she did not answer. Already she was reeling in the air. 

'What is the matter with you?' cried Peter, suddenly afraid. 

'It was poisoned, Peter, ' she told him softly; 'and now I am going to bedead. '

'O Tink, did you drink it to save me?'

'Yes. '

'But why, Tink?'

Her wings would scarcely carry her now, but in reply she alighted on hisshoulder and gave his chin a loving bite. She whispered in his ear 'Yousilly ass'; and then, tottering to her chamber, lay down on the bed. 

His head almost filled the fourth wall of her little room as he kneltnear her in distress. Every moment her light was growing fainter; and heknew that if it went out she would be no more. She liked his tears somuch that she put out her beautiful finger and let them run over it. 

Her voice was so low that at first he could not make out what she said. Then he made it out. She was saying that she thought she could get wellagain if children believed in fairies. 

Peter flung out his arms. There were no children there, and it wasnight-time; but he addressed all who might be dreaming of the Neverland, and who were therefore nearer to him than you think: boys and girls intheir nighties, and naked papooses in their baskets hung from trees. 

'Do you believe?' he cried. 

Tink sat up in bed almost briskly to listen to her fate. 

She fancied she heard answers in the affirmative, and then again shewasn't sure. 

'What do you think?' she asked Peter. 

'If you believe, ' he shouted to them, 'clap your hands; don't let Tinkdie. '

Many clapped. 

Some didn't. 

A few little beasts hissed. 

The clapping stopped suddenly; as if countless mothers had rushed totheir nurseries to see what on earth was happening; but already Tink wassaved. First her voice grew strong; then she popped out of bed; then shewas flashing through the room more merry and impudent than ever. Shenever thought of thanking those who believed, but she would have likedto get at the ones who had hissed. 

'And now to rescue Wendy. '

The moon was riding in a cloudy heaven when Peter rose from his tree, begirt with weapons and wearing little else, to set out upon hisperilous quest. It was not such a night as he would have chosen. He hadhoped to fly, keeping not far from the ground so that nothing unwontedshould escape his eyes; but in that fitful light to have flown low wouldhave meant trailing his shadow through the trees, thus disturbing thebirds and acquainting a watchful foe that he was astir. 

He regretted now that he had given the birds of the island such strangenames that they are very wild and difficult of approach. 

There was no other course but to press forward in redskin fashion, atwhich happily he was an adept. But in what direction, for he could notbe sure that the children had been taken to the ship? A slight fall ofsnow had obliterated all footmarks; and a deathly silence pervaded theisland, as if for a space Nature stood still in horror of the recentcarnage. He had taught the children something of the forest lore that hehad himself learned from Tiger Lily and Tinker Bell, and knew that intheir dire hour they were not likely to forget it. Slightly, if he hadan opportunity, would blaze the trees, for instance, Curly would dropseeds, and Wendy would leave her handkerchief at some important place. But morning was needed to search for such guidance, and he could notwait. The upper world had called him, but would give no help. 

The crocodile passed him, but not another living thing, not a sound, nota movement; and yet he knew well that sudden death might be at the nexttree, or stalking him from behind. 

He swore this terrible oath: 'Hook or me this time. '

Now he crawled forward like a snake; and again, erect, he darted acrossa space on which the moonlight played: one finger on his lip and hisdagger at the ready. He was frightfully happy. 

CHAPTER XIV

THE PIRATE SHIP

One green light squinting over Kidd's Creek, which is near the mouth ofthe pirate river, marked where the brig, the _Jolly Roger_, lay, low inthe water; a rakish-looking craft foul to the hull, every beam in herdetestable like ground strewn with mangled feathers. She was thecannibal of the seas, and scarce needed that watchful eye, for shefloated immune in the horror of her name. 

She was wrapped in the blanket of night, through which no sound from hercould have reached the shore. There was little sound, and none agreeablesave the whir of the ship's sewing machine at which Smee sat, everindustrious and obliging, the essence of the commonplace, pathetic Smee. I know not why he was so infinitely pathetic, unless it were because hewas so pathetically unaware of it; but even strong men had to turnhastily from looking at him, and more than once on summer evenings hehad touched the fount of Hook's tears and made it flow. Of this, as ofalmost everything else, Smee was quite unconscious. 

A few of the pirates leant over the bulwarks drinking in the miasma ofthe night; others sprawled by barrels over games of dice and cards; andthe exhausted four who had carried the little house lay prone on thedeck, where even in their sleep they rolled skilfully to this side orthat out of Hook's reach, lest he should claw them mechanically inpassing. 

Hook trod the deck in thought. O man unfathomable. It was his hour oftriumph. Peter had been removed for ever from his path, and all theother boys were on the brig, about to walk the plank. It was hisgrimmest deed since the days when he had brought Barbecue to heel; andknowing as we do how vain a tabernacle is man, could we be surprised hadhe now paced the deck unsteadily, bellied out by the winds of hissuccess?

But there was no elation in his gait, which kept pace with the actionof his sombre mind. Hook was profoundly dejected. 

He was often thus when communing with himself on board ship in thequietude of the night. It was because he was so terribly alone. Thisinscrutable man never felt more alone than when surrounded by his dogs. They were socially so inferior to him. 

Hook was not his true name. To reveal who he really was would even atthis date set the country in a blaze; but as those who read between thelines must already have guessed, he had been at a famous public school;and its traditions still clung to him like garments, with which indeedthey are largely concerned. Thus it was offensive to him even now toboard a ship in the same dress in which he grappled her; and he stilladhered in his walk to the school's distinguished slouch. But above allhe retained the passion for good form. 

Good form! However much he may have degenerated, he still knew that thisis all that really matters. 

From far within him he heard a creaking as of rusty portals, andthrough them came a stern tap-tap-tap, like hammering in the night whenone cannot sleep. 'Have you been good form to-day?' was their eternalquestion. 

'Fame, fame, that glittering bauble, it is mine, ' he cried. 

'Is it quite good form to be distinguished at anything?' the tap-tapfrom his school replied. 

'I am the only man whom Barbecue feared, ' he urged; 'and Flint himselffeared Barbecue. '

'Barbecue, Flint--what house?' came the cutting retort. 

Most disquieting reflection of all, was it not bad form to think aboutgood form?

His vitals were tortured by this problem. It was a claw within himsharper than the iron one; and as it tore him, the perspiration drippeddown his tallow countenance and streaked his doublet. Ofttimes he drewhis sleeve across his face, but there was no damming that trickle. 

Ah, envy not Hook. 

There came to him a presentiment of his early dissolution. It was as ifPeter's terrible oath had boarded the ship. Hook felt a gloomy desireto make his dying speech, lest presently there should be no time for it. 

'Better for Hook, ' he cried, 'if he had had less ambition. ' It was inhis darkest hours only that he referred to himself in the third person. 

'No little children love me. '

Strange that he should think of this, which had never troubled himbefore; perhaps the sewing machine brought it to his mind. For long hemuttered to himself, staring at Smee, who was hemming placidly, underthe conviction that all children feared him. 

Feared him! Feared Smee! There was not a child on board the brig thatnight who did not already love him. He had said horrid things to themand hit them with the palm of his hand, because he could not hit withhis fist; but they had only clung to him the more. Michael had tried onhis spectacles. 

To tell poor Smee that they thought him lovable! Hook itched to do it, but it seemed too brutal. Instead, he revolved this mystery in his mind:why do they find Smee lovable? He pursued the problem like thesleuth-hound that he was. If Smee was lovable, what was it that made himso? A terrible answer suddenly presented itself: 'Good form?'

Had the bo'sun good form without knowing it, which is the best form ofall?

He remembered that you have to prove you don't know you have it beforeyou are eligible for Pop. 

With a cry of rage he raised his iron hand over Smee's head; but he didnot tear. What arrested him was this reflection:

'To claw a man because he is good form, what would that be?'

'Bad form!'

The unhappy Hook was as impotent as he was damp, and he fell forwardlike a cut flower. 

His dogs thinking him out of the way for a time, discipline instantlyrelaxed; and they broke into a bacchanalian dance, which brought him tohis feet at once; all traces of human weakness gone, as if a bucket ofwater had passed over him. 

'Quiet, you scugs, ' he cried, 'or I'll cast anchor in you'; and at oncethe din was hushed. 'Are all the children chained, so that they cannotfly away?'

'Ay, ay. '

'Then hoist them up. '

The wretched prisoners were dragged from the hold, all except Wendy, andranged in line in front of him. For a time he seemed unconscious oftheir presence. He lolled at his ease, humming, not unmelodiously, snatches of a rude song, and fingering a pack of cards. Ever and anonthe light from his cigar gave a touch of colour to his face. 

'Now then, bullies, ' he said briskly, 'six of you walk the plankto-night, but I have room for two cabin boys. Which of you is it to be?'

'Don't irritate him unnecessarily, ' had been Wendy's instructions in thehold; so Tootles stepped forward politely. Tootles hated the idea ofsigning under such a man, but an instinct told him that it would beprudent to lay the responsibility on an absent person; and though asomewhat silly boy, he knew that mothers alone are always willing to bethe buffer. All children know this about mothers, and despise them forit, but make constant use of it. 

So Tootles explained prudently, 'You see, sir, I don't think my motherwould like me to be a pirate. Would your mother like you to be a pirate, Slightly?'

He winked at Slightly, who said mournfully, 'I don't think so, ' as if hewished things had been otherwise. 'Would your mother like you to be apirate, Twin?'

'I don't think so, ' said the first twin, as clever as the others. 'Nibs, would----'

'Stow this gab, ' roared Hook, and the spokesmen were dragged back. 'You, boy, ' he said, addressing John, 'you look as if you had a little pluckin you. Didst never want to be a pirate, my hearty?'

Now John had sometimes experienced this hankering at maths. Prep. ; andhe was struck by Hook's picking him out. 

'I once thought of calling myself Red-handed Jack, ' he said diffidently. 

'And a good name too. We'll call you that here, bully, if you join. '

'What do you think, Michael?' asked John. 

'What would you call me if I join?' Michael demanded. 

'Blackbeard Joe. '

Michael was naturally impressed. 'What do you think, John?' He wantedJohn to decide, and John wanted him to decide. 

'Shall we still be respectful subjects of the King?' John inquired. 

Through Hook's teeth came the answer: 'You would have to swear, "Downwith the King. "'

Perhaps John had not behaved very well so far, but he shone out now. 

'Then I refuse, ' he cried, banging the barrel in front of Hook. 

'And I refuse, ' cried Michael. 

'Rule Britannia!' squeaked Curly. 

The infuriated pirates buffeted them in the mouth; and Hook roared out, 'That seals your doom. Bring up their mother. Get the plank ready. '

They were only boys, and they went white as they saw Jukes and Ceccopreparing the fatal plank. But they tried to look brave when Wendy wasbrought up. 

No words of mine can tell you how Wendy despised those pirates. To theboys there was at least some glamour in the pirate calling; but all thatshe saw was that the ship had not been scrubbed for years. There was nota porthole, on the grimy glass of which you might not have written withyour finger 'Dirty pig'; and she had already written it on several. Butas the boys gathered round her she had no thought, of course, save forthem. 

'So, my beauty, ' said Hook, as if he spoke in syrup, 'you are to seeyour children walk the plank. '

Fine gentleman though he was, the intensity of his communings had soiledhis ruff, and suddenly he knew that she was gazing at it. With a hastygesture he tried to hide it, but he was too late. 

'Are they to die?' asked Wendy, with a look of such frightful contemptthat he nearly fainted. 

'They are, ' he snarled. 'Silence all, ' he called gloatingly, 'for amother's last words to her children. '

At this moment Wendy was grand. 'These are my last words, dear boys, 'she said firmly. 'I feel that I have a message to you from your realmothers, and it is this: "We hope our sons will die like Englishgentlemen. "'

Even the pirates were awed; and Tootles cried out hysterically, 'I amgoing to do what my mother hopes. What are you to do, Nibs?'

'What my mother hopes. What are you to do, Twin?'

'What my mother hopes. John, what are----'

But Hook had found his voice again. 

'Tie her up, ' he shouted. 

It was Smee who tied her to the mast. 'See here, honey, ' he whispered, 'I'll save you if you promise to be my mother. '

But not even for Smee would she make such a promise. 'I would almostrather have no children at all, ' she said disdainfully. 

It is sad to know that not a boy was looking at her as Smee tied her tothe mast; the eyes of all were on the plank: that last little walk theywere about to take. They were no longer able to hope that they wouldwalk it manfully, for the capacity to think had gone from them; theycould stare and shiver only. 

Hook smiled on them with his teeth closed, and took a step toward Wendy. His intention was to turn her face so that she should see the boyswalking the plank one by one. But he never reached her, he never heardthe cry of anguish he hoped to wring from her. He heard something elseinstead. 

It was the terrible tick-tick of the crocodile. 

They all heard it--pirates, boys, Wendy; and immediately every head wasblown in one direction; not to the water whence the sound proceeded, buttoward Hook. All knew that what was about to happen concerned him alone, and that from being actors they were suddenly become spectators. 

Very frightful was it to see the change that came over him. It was as ifhe had been clipped at every joint. He fell in a little heap. 

The sound came steadily nearer; and in advance of it came this ghastlythought, 'The crocodile is about to board the ship. '

Even the iron claw hung inactive; as if knowing that it was nointrinsic part of what the attacking force wanted. Left so fearfullyalone, any other man would have lain with his eyes shut where he fell:but the gigantic brain of Hook was still working, and under its guidancehe crawled on his knees along the deck as far from the sound as he couldgo. The pirates respectfully cleared a passage for him, and it was onlywhen he brought up against the bulwarks that he spoke. 

'Hide me, ' he cried hoarsely. 

They gathered round him; all eyes averted from the thing that was comingaboard. They had no thought of fighting it. It was Fate. 

Only when Hook was hidden from them did curiosity loosen the limbs ofthe boys so that they could rush to the ship's side to see the crocodileclimbing it. Then they got the strangest surprise of this Night ofNights; for it was no crocodile that was coming to their aid. It wasPeter. 

He signed to them not to give vent to any cry of admiration that mightrouse suspicion. Then he went on ticking. 

CHAPTER XV

'HOOK OR ME THIS TIME'

Odd things happen to all of us on our way through life without ournoticing for a time that they have happened. Thus, to take an instance, we suddenly discover that we have been deaf in one ear for we don't knowhow long, but, say, half an hour. Now such an experience had come thatnight to Peter. When last we saw him he was stealing across the islandwith one finger to his lips and his dagger at the ready. He had seen thecrocodile pass by without noticing anything peculiar about it, but byand by he remembered that it had not been ticking. At first he thoughtthis eerie, but soon he concluded rightly that the clock had run down. 

Without giving a thought to what might be the feelings of afellow-creature thus abruptly deprived of its closest companion, Peterat once considered how he could turn the catastrophe to his own use; andhe decided to tick, so that wild beasts should believe he was thecrocodile and let him pass unmolested. He ticked superbly, but with oneunforeseen result. The crocodile was among those who heard the sound, and it followed him, though whether with the purpose of regaining whatit had lost, or merely as a friend under the belief that it was againticking itself, will never be certainly known, for, like all slaves to afixed idea, it was a stupid beast. 

Peter reached the shore without mishap, and went straight on; his legsencountering the water as if quite unaware that they had entered a newelement. Thus many animals pass from land to water, but no other humanof whom I know. As he swam he had but one thought: 'Hook or me thistime. ' He had ticked so long that he now went on ticking without knowingthat he was doing it. Had he known he would have stopped, for to boardthe brig by the help of the tick, though an ingenious idea, had notoccurred to him. 

[Illustration: HOOK OR ME THIS TIME]

On the contrary, he thought he had scaled her side as noiseless as amouse; and he was amazed to see the pirates cowering from him, with Hookin their midst as abject as if he had heard the crocodile. 

The crocodile! No sooner did Peter remember it than he heard theticking. At first he thought the sound did come from the crocodile, andhe looked behind him swiftly. Then he realised that he was doing ithimself, and in a flash he understood the situation. 'How clever of me, 'he thought at once, and signed to the boys not to burst into applause. 

It was at this moment that Ed Teynte the quartermaster emerged from theforecastle and came along the deck. Now, reader, time what happened byyour watch. Peter struck true and deep. John clapped his hands on theill-fated pirate's mouth to stifle the dying groan. He fell forward. Four boys caught him to prevent the thud. Peter gave the signal, and thecarrion was cast overboard. There was a splash, and then silence. Howlong has it taken?

'One!' (Slightly had begun to count. )

None too soon, Peter, every inch of him on tiptoe, vanished into thecabin; for more than one pirate was screwing up his courage to lookround. They could hear each other's distressed breathing now, whichshowed them that the more terrible sound had passed. 

'It's gone, captain, ' Smee said, wiping his spectacles. 'All's stillagain. '

Slowly Hook let his head emerge from his ruff, and listened so intentlythat he could have caught the echo of the tick. There was not a sound, and he drew himself up firmly to his full height. 

'Then here's to Johnny Plank, ' he cried brazenly, hating the boys morethan ever because they had seen him unbend. He broke into the villainousditty:

 'Yo ho, yo ho, the frisky plank, You walks along it so, Till it goes down and you goes down To Davy Jones below!'

To terrorise the prisoners the more, though with a certain loss ofdignity, he danced along an imaginary plank, grimacing at them as hesang; and when he finished he cried, 'Do you want a touch of the catbefore you walk the plank?'

At that they fell on their knees. 'No, no, ' they cried so piteouslythat every pirate smiled. 

'Fetch the cat, Jukes, ' said Hook; 'it's in the cabin. '

The cabin! Peter was in the cabin! The children gazed at each other. 

'Ay, ay, ' said Jukes blithely, and he strode into the cabin. Theyfollowed him with their eyes; they scarce knew that Hook had resumed hissong, his dogs joining in with him:

 'Yo ho, yo ho, the scratching cat, Its tails are nine, you know, And when they're writ upon your back--

What was the last line will never be known, for of a sudden the song wasstayed by a dreadful screech from the cabin. It wailed through the ship, and died away. Then was heard a crowing sound which was well understoodby the boys, but to the pirates was almost more eerie than the screech. 

'What was that?' cried Hook. 

'Two, ' said Slightly solemnly. 

The Italian Cecco hesitated for a moment and then swung into the cabin. He tottered out, haggard. 

'What's the matter with Bill Jukes, you dog?' hissed Hook, towering overhim. 

'The matter wi' him is he's dead, stabbed, ' replied Cecco in a hollowVoice. 

'Bill Jukes dead!' cried the startled pirates. 

'The cabin's as black as a pit, ' Cecco said, almost gibbering, 'butthere is something terrible in there: the thing you heard crowing. '

The exultation of the boys, the lowering looks of the pirates, both wereseen by Hook. 

'Cecco, ' he said in his most steely voice, 'go back and fetch me outthat doodle-doo. '

Cecco, bravest of the brave, cowered before his captain, crying 'No, no'; but Hook was purring to his claw. 

'Did you say you would go, Cecco?' he said musingly. 

Cecco went, first flinging up his arms despairingly. There was no moresinging, all listened now; and again came a death-screech and again acrow. 

No one spoke except Slightly. 'Three, ' he said. 

Hook rallied his dogs with a gesture. ''Sdeath and odds fish, ' hethundered, 'who is to bring me that doodle-doo?'

'Wait till Cecco comes out, ' growled Starkey, and the others took up thecry. 

'I think I heard you volunteer, Starkey, ' said Hook, purring again. 

'No, by thunder!' Starkey cried. 

'My hook thinks you did, ' said Hook, crossing to him. 'I wonder if itwould not be advisable, Starkey, to humour the hook?'

'I'll swing before I go in there, ' replied Starkey doggedly, and againhe had the support of the crew. 

'Is it mutiny?' asked Hook more pleasantly than ever. 'Starkey'sringleader. '

'Captain, mercy, ' Starkey whimpered, all of a tremble now. 

'Shake hands, Starkey, ' said Hook, proffering his claw. 

Starkey looked round for help, but all deserted him. As he backed Hookadvanced, and now the red spark was in his eye. With a despairing screamthe pirate leapt upon Long Tom and precipitated himself into the sea. 

'Four, ' said Slightly. 

'And now, ' Hook asked courteously, 'did any other gentleman say mutiny?'Seizing a lantern and raising his claw with a menacing gesture, 'I'llbring out that doodle-doo myself, ' he said, and sped into the cabin. 

'Five. ' How Slightly longed to say it. He wetted his lips to be ready, but Hook came staggering out, without his lantern. 

'Something blew out the light, ' he said a little unsteadily. 

'Something!' echoed Mullins. 

'What of Cecco?' demanded Noodler. 

'He's as dead as Jukes, ' said Hook shortly. 

His reluctance to return to the cabin impressed them all unfavourably, and the mutinous sounds again broke forth. All pirates aresuperstitious; and Cookson cried, 'They do say the surest sign a ship'saccurst is when there's one on board more than can be accounted for. '

'I've heard, ' muttered Mullins, 'he always boards the pirate craft atlast. Had he a tail, captain?'

'They say, ' said another, looking viciously at Hook, 'that when hecomes it's in the likeness of the wickedest man aboard. '

'Had he a hook, captain?' asked Cookson insolently; and one afteranother took up the cry, 'The ship's doomed. ' At this the children couldnot resist raising a cheer. Hook had well-nigh forgotten his prisoners, but as he swung round on them now his face lit up again. 

'Lads, ' he cried to his crew, 'here's a notion. Open the cabin door anddrive them in. Let them fight the doodle-doo for their lives. If theykill him, we're so much the better; if he kills them, we're none theworse. '

For the last time his dogs admired Hook, and devotedly they did hisbidding. The boys, pretending to struggle, were pushed into the cabinand the door was closed on them. 

'Now, listen, ' cried Hook, and all listened. But not one dared to facethe door. Yes, one, Wendy, who all this time had been bound to the mast. It was for neither a scream nor a crow that she was watching; it was forthe reappearance of Peter. 

She had not long to wait. In the cabin he had found the thing for whichhe had gone in search: the key that would free the children of theirmanacles; and now they all stole forth, armed with such weapons as theycould find. First signing to them to hide, Peter cut Wendy's bonds, andthen nothing could have been easier than for them all to fly offtogether; but one thing barred the way, an oath, 'Hook or me this time. 'So when he had freed Wendy, he whispered to her to conceal herself withthe others, and himself took her place by the mast, her cloak around himso that he should pass for her. Then he took a great breath and crowed. 

To the pirates it was a voice crying that all the boys lay slain in thecabin; and they were panic-stricken. Hook tried to hearten them; butlike the dogs he had made them they showed him their fangs, and he knewthat if he took his eyes off them now they would leap at him. 

'Lads, ' he said, ready to cajole or strike as need be, but neverquailing for an instant, 'I've thought it out. There's a Jonah abroad. '

'Ay, ' they snarled, 'a man wi' a hook. '

'No, lads, no, it's the girl. Never was luck on a pirate ship wi' awoman on board. We'll right the ship when she's gone. '

Some of them remembered that this had been a saying of Flint's. 'It'sworth trying, ' they said doubtfully. 

'Fling the girl overboard, ' cried Hook; and they made a rush at thefigure in the cloak. 

'There's none can save you now, missy, ' Mullins hissed jeeringly. 

'There's one, ' replied the figure. 

'Who's that?'

'Peter Pan the avenger!' came the terrible answer; and as he spoke Peterflung off his cloak. Then they all knew who 'twas that had been undoingthem in the cabin, and twice Hook essayed to speak and twice he failed. In that frightful moment I think his fierce heart broke. 

At last he cried, 'Cleave him to the brisket, ' but without conviction. 

'Down, boys, and at them, ' Peter's voice rang out; and in another momentthe clash of arms was resounding through the ship. Had the pirates kepttogether it is certain that they would have won; but the onset camewhen they were all unstrung, and they ran hither and thither, strikingwildly, each thinking himself the last survivor of the crew. Man to manthey were the stronger; but they fought on the defensive only, whichenabled the boys to hunt in pairs and choose their quarry. Some of themiscreants leapt into the sea; others hid in dark recesses, where theywere found by Slightly, who did not fight, but ran about with a lanternwhich he flashed in their faces, so that they were half blinded and fellan easy prey to the reeking swords of the other boys. There was littlesound to be heard but the clang of weapons, an occasional screech orsplash, and Slightly monotonously counting--five--six--seven--eight--nine--ten--eleven. 

I think all were gone when a group of savage boys surrounded Hook, whoseemed to have a charmed life, as he kept them at bay in that circle offire. They had done for his dogs, but this man alone seemed to be amatch for them all. Again and again they closed upon him, and again andagain he hewed a clear space. He had lifted up one boy with his hook, and was using him as a buckler, when another, who had just passed hissword through Mullins, sprang into the fray. 

'Put up your swords, boys, ' cried the newcomer, 'this man is mine. '

[Illustration: "THIS MAN IS MINE!"]

Thus suddenly Hook found himself face to face with Peter. The othersdrew back and formed a ring round them. 

For long the two enemies looked at one another; Hook shudderingslightly, and Peter with the strange smile upon his face. 

'So, Pan, ' said Hook at last, 'this is all your doing. '

'Ay, James Hook, ' came the stern answer, 'it is all my doing. '

'Proud and insolent youth, ' said Hook, 'prepare to meet thy doom. '

'Dark and sinister man, ' Peter answered, 'have at thee. '

Without more words they fell to, and for a space there was no advantageto either blade. Peter was a superb swordsman, and parried with dazzlingrapidity; ever and anon he followed up a feint with a lunge that gotpast his foe's defence, but his shorter reach stood him in ill stead, and he could not drive the steel home. Hook, scarcely his inferior inbrilliancy, but not quite so nimble in wrist play, forced him back bythe weight of his onset, hoping suddenly to end all with a favouritethrust, taught him long ago by Barbecue at Rio; but to his astonishmenthe found this thrust turned aside again and again. Then he sought toclose and give the quietus with his iron hook, which all this time hadbeen pawing the air; but Peter doubled under it and, lunging fiercely, pierced him in the ribs. At sight of his own blood, whose peculiarcolour, you remember, was offensive to him, the sword fell from Hook'shand, and he was at Peter's mercy. 

'Now!' cried all the boys; but with a magnificent gesture Peter invitedhis opponent to pick up his sword. Hook did so instantly, but with atragic feeling that Peter was showing good form. 

Hitherto he had thought it was some fiend fighting him, but darkersuspicions assailed him now. 

'Pan, who and what art thou?' he cried huskily. 

'I'm youth, I'm joy, ' Peter answered at a venture, 'I'm a little birdthat has broken out of the egg. '

This, of course, was nonsense; but it was proof to the unhappy Hook thatPeter did not know in the least who or what he was, which is the verypinnacle of good form. 

'To 't again, ' he cried despairingly. 

He fought now like a human flail, and every sweep of that terrible swordwould have severed in twain any man or boy who obstructed it; but Peterfluttered round him as if the very wind it made blew him out of thedanger zone. And again and again he darted in and pricked. 

Hook was fighting now without hope. That passionate breast no longerasked for life; but for one boon it craved: to see Peter bad form beforeit was cold for ever. 

Abandoning the fight he rushed into the powder magazine and fired it. 

'In two minutes, ' he cried, 'the ship will be blown to pieces. '

Now, now, he thought, true form will show. 

But Peter issued from the powder magazine with the shell in his hands, and calmly flung it overboard. 

What sort of form was Hook himself showing? Misguided man though he was, we may be glad, without sympathising with him, that in the end he wastrue to the traditions of his race. The other boys were flying aroundhim now, flouting, scornful; and as he staggered about the deck strikingup at them impotently, his mind was no longer with them; it wasslouching in the playing fields of long ago, or being sent up for good, or watching the wall-game from a famous wall. And his shoes were right, and his waistcoat was right, and his tie was right, and his socks wereright. 

James Hook, thou not wholly unheroic figure, farewell. 

For we have come to his last moment. 

Seeing Peter slowly advancing upon him through the air with daggerpoised, he sprang upon the bulwarks to cast himself into the sea. He didnot know that the crocodile was waiting for him; for we purposelystopped the clock that this knowledge might be spared him: a little markof respect from us at the end. 

He had one last triumph, which I think we need not grudge him. As hestood on the bulwark looking over his shoulder at Peter gliding throughthe air, he invited him with a gesture to use his foot. It made Peterkick instead of stab. 

At last Hook had got the boon for which he craved. 

'Bad form, ' he cried jeeringly, and went content to the crocodile. 

Thus perished James Hook. 

'Seventeen, ' Slightly sang out; but he was not quite correct in hisfigures. Fifteen paid the penalty for their crimes that night; but tworeached the shore: Starkey to be captured by the redskins, who made himnurse for all their papooses, a melancholy come-down for a pirate; andSmee, who henceforth wandered about the world in his spectacles, makinga precarious living by saying he was the only man that Jas. Hook hadfeared. 

Wendy, of course, had stood by taking no part in the fight, thoughwatching Peter with glistening eyes; but now that all was over shebecame prominent again. She praised them equally, and shuddereddelightfully when Michael showed her the place where he had killed one;and then she took them into Hook's cabin and pointed to his watch whichwas hanging on a nail. It said 'half-past one'!

The lateness of the hour was almost the biggest thing of all. She gotthem to bed in the pirates' bunks pretty quickly, you may be sure; allbut Peter, who strutted up and down on deck, until at last he fellasleep by the side of Long Tom. He had one of his dreams that night, andcried in his sleep for a long time, and Wendy held him tight. 

CHAPTER XVI

THE RETURN HOME

By two bells that morning they were all stirring their stumps; for therewas a big sea running; and Tootles, the bo'sun, was among them, with arope's end in his hand and chewing tobacco. They all donned pirateclothes cut off at the knee, shaved smartly, and tumbled up, with thetrue nautical roll and hitching their trousers. 

It need not be said who was the captain. Nibs and John were first andsecond mate. There was a woman aboard. The rest were tars before themast, and lived in the fo'c'sle. Peter had already lashed himself to thewheel; but he piped all hands and delivered a short address to them;said he hoped they would do their duty like gallant hearties, but thathe knew they were the scum of Rio and the Gold Coast, and if theysnapped at him he would tear them. His bluff strident words struck thenote sailors understand, and they cheered him lustily. Then a few sharporders were given, and they turned the ship round, and nosed her for themainland. 

Captain Pan calculated, after consulting the ship's chart, that if thisweather lasted they should strike the Azores about the 21st of June, after which it would save time to fly. 

Some of them wanted it to be an honest ship and others were in favour ofkeeping it a pirate; but the captain treated them as dogs, and theydared not express their wishes to him even in a round robin. Instantobedience was the only safe thing. Slightly got a dozen for lookingperplexed when told to take soundings. The general feeling was thatPeter was honest just now to lull Wendy's suspicions, but that theremight be a change when the new suit was ready, which, against her will, she was making for him out of some of Hook's wickedest garments. It wasafterwards whispered among them that on the first night he wore thissuit he sat long in the cabin with Hook's cigar-holder in his mouth andone hand clenched, all but the forefinger, which he bent and heldthreateningly aloft like a hook. 

Instead of watching the ship, however, we must now return to thatdesolate home from which three of our characters had taken heartlessflight so long ago. It seems a shame to have neglected No. 14 all thistime; and yet we may be sure that Mrs. Darling does not blame us. If wehad returned sooner to look with sorrowful sympathy at her, she wouldprobably have cried, 'Don't be silly; what do I matter? Do go back andkeep an eye on the children. ' So long as mothers are like this theirchildren will take advantage of them; and they may lay to that. 

Even now we venture into that familiar nursery only because its lawfuloccupants are on their way home; we are merely hurrying on in advance ofthem to see that their beds are properly aired and that Mr. And Mrs. Darling do not go out for the evening. We are no more than servants. Whyon earth should their beds be properly aired, seeing that they left themin such a thankless hurry? Would it not serve them jolly well right ifthey came back and found that their parents were spending the week-endin the country? It would be the moral lesson they have been in need ofever since we met them; but if we contrived things in this way Mrs. Darling would never forgive us. 

One thing I should like to do immensely, and that is to tell her, in theway authors have, that the children are coming back, that indeed theywill be here on Thursday week. This would spoil so completely thesurprise to which Wendy and John and Michael are looking forward. Theyhave been planning it out on the ship: mother's rapture, father's shoutof joy, Nana's leap through the air to embrace them first, when whatthey ought to be preparing for is a good hiding. How delicious to spoilit all by breaking the news in advance; so that when they enter grandlyMrs. Darling may not even offer Wendy her mouth, and Mr. Darling mayexclaim pettishly, 'Dash it all, here are those boys again. ' However, weshould get no thanks even for this. We are beginning to know Mrs. Darling by this time, and may be sure that she would upbraid us fordepriving the children of their little pleasure. 

'But, my dear madam, it is ten days till Thursday week; so that bytelling you what's what, we can save you ten days of unhappiness. '

'Yes, but at what a cost! By depriving the children of ten minutes ofdelight. '

'Oh, if you look at it in that way. '

'What other way is there in which to look at it?'

You see, the woman had no proper spirit. I had meant to sayextraordinarily nice things about her; but I despise her, and not one ofthem will I say now. She does not really need to be told to have thingsready, for they are ready. All the beds are aired, and she never leavesthe house, and observe, the window is open. For all the use we are toher, we might go back to the ship. However, as we are here we may aswell stay and look on. That is all we are, lookers-on. Nobody reallywants us. So let us watch and say jaggy things, in the hope that some ofthem will hurt. 

The only change to be seen in the night-nursery is that between nineand six the kennel is no longer there. When the children flew away, Mr. Darling felt in his bones that all the blame was his for having chainedNana up, and that from first to last she had been wiser than he. Ofcourse, as we have seen, he was quite a simple man; indeed he might havepassed for a boy again if he had been able to take his baldness off; buthe had also a noble sense of justice and a lion courage to do whatseemed right to him; and having thought the matter out with anxious careafter the flight of the children, he went down on all fours and crawledinto the kennel. To all Mrs. Darling's dear invitations to him to comeout he replied sadly but firmly:

'No, my own one, this is the place for me. '

In the bitterness of his remorse he swore that he would never leave thekennel until his children came back. Of course this was a pity; butwhatever Mr. Darling did he had to do in excess; otherwise he soon gaveup doing it. And there never was a more humble man than the once proudGeorge Darling, as he sat in the kennel of an evening talking with hiswife of their children and all their pretty ways. 

Very touching was his deference to Nana. He would not let her come intothe kennel, but on all other matters he followed her wishes implicitly. 

Every morning the kennel was carried with Mr. Darling in it to a cab, which conveyed him to his office, and he returned home in the same wayat six. Something of the strength of character of the man will be seenif we remember how sensitive he was to the opinion of neighbours: thisman whose every movement now attracted surprised attention. Inwardly hemust have suffered torture; but he preserved a calm exterior even whenthe young criticised his little home, and he always lifted his hatcourteously to any lady who looked inside. 

It may have been quixotic, but it was magnificent. Soon the inwardmeaning of it leaked out, and the great heart of the public was touched. Crowds followed the cab, cheering it lustily; charming girls scaled itto get his autograph; interviews appeared in the better class of papers, and society invited him to dinner and added, 'Do come in the kennel. '

On that eventful Thursday week Mrs. Darling was in the night-nurseryawaiting George's return home: a very sad-eyed woman. Now that we lookat her closely and remember the gaiety of her in the old days, all gonenow just because she has lost her babes, I find I won't be able to saynasty things about her after all. If she was too fond of her rubbishychildren she couldn't help it. Look at her in her chair, where she hasfallen asleep. The corner of her mouth, where one looks first, is almostwithered up. Her hand moves restlessly on her breast as if she had apain there. Some like Peter best and some like Wendy best, but I likeher best. Suppose, to make her happy, we whisper to her in her sleepthat the brats are coming back. They are really within two miles of thewindow now, and flying strong, but all we need whisper is that they areon the way. Let's. 

It is a pity we did it, for she has started up, calling their names; andthere is no one in the room but Nana. 

'O Nana, I dreamt my dear ones had come back. '

Nana had filmy eyes, but all she could do was to put her paw gently onher mistress's lap; and they were sitting together thus when the kennelwas brought back. As Mr. Darling puts his head out at it to kiss hiswife, we see that his face is more worn than of yore, but has a softerexpression. 

He gave his hat to Liza, who took it scornfully; for she had noimagination, and was quite incapable of understanding the motives ofsuch a man. Outside, the crowd who had accompanied the cab home werestill cheering, and he was naturally not unmoved. 

'Listen to them, ' he said; 'it is very gratifying. '

'Lot of little boys, ' sneered Liza. 

'There were several adults to-day, ' he assured her with a faint flush;but when she tossed her head he had not a word of reproof for her. Social success had not spoilt him; it had made him sweeter. For sometime he sat half out of the kennel, talking with Mrs. Darling of thissuccess, and pressing her hand reassuringly when she said she hoped hishead would not be turned by it. 

'But if I had been a weak man, ' he said. 'Good heavens, if I had been aweak man!'

'And, George, ' she said timidly, 'you are as full of remorse as ever, aren't you?'

'Full of remorse as ever, dearest! See my punishment: living in akennel. '

'But it is punishment, isn't it, George? You are sure you are notenjoying it?'

'My love!'

You may be sure she begged his pardon; and then, feeling drowsy, hecurled round in the kennel. 

'Won't you play me to sleep, ' he asked, 'on the nursery piano?' and asshe was crossing to the day nursery he added thoughtlessly, 'And shutthat window. I feel a draught. '

'O George, never ask me to do that. The window must always be left openfor them, always, always. '

Now it was his turn to beg her pardon; and she went into the day nurseryand played, and soon he was asleep; and while he slept, Wendy and Johnand Michael flew into the room. 

Oh no. We have written it so, because that was the charming arrangementplanned by them before we left the ship; but something must havehappened since then, for it is not they who have flown in, it is Peterand Tinker Bell. 

Peter's first words tell all. 

'Quick, Tink, ' he whispered, 'close the window; bar it. That's right. Now you and I must get away by the door; and when Wendy comes she willthink her mother has barred her out; and she will have to go back withme. '

Now I understand what had hitherto puzzled me, why when Peter hadexterminated the pirates he did not return to the island and leave Tinkto escort the children to the mainland. This trick had been in his headall the time. 

Instead of feeling that he was behaving badly he danced with glee; thenhe peeped into the day-nursery to see who was playing. He whispered toTink, 'It's Wendy's mother. She is a pretty lady, but not so pretty asmy mother. Her mouth is full of thimbles, but not so full as my mother'swas. '

Of course he knew nothing whatever about his mother; but he sometimesbragged about her. 

He did not know the tune, which was 'Home, Sweet Home, ' but he knew itwas saying, 'Come back, Wendy, Wendy, Wendy'; and he cried exultantly, 'You will never see Wendy again, lady, for the window is barred. '

He peeped in again to see why the music had stopped; and now he saw thatMrs. Darling had laid her head on the box, and that two tears weresitting on her eyes. 

'She wants me to unbar the window, ' thought Peter, 'but I won't, not I. '

He peeped again, and the tears were still there, or another two hadtaken their place. 

'She's awfully fond of Wendy, ' he said to himself. He was angry with hernow for not seeing why she could not have Wendy. 

The reason was so simple: 'I'm fond of her too. We can't both have her, lady. '

But the lady would not make the best of it, and he was unhappy. Heceased to look at her, but even then she would not let go of him. Heskipped about and made funny faces, but when he stopped it was just asif she were inside him, knocking. 

'Oh, all right, ' he said at last, and gulped. Then he unbarred thewindow. 'Come on, Tink, ' he cried, with a frightful sneer at the lawsof nature; 'we don't want any silly mothers'; and he flew away. 

Thus Wendy and John and Michael found the window open for them afterall, which of course was more than they deserved. They alighted on thefloor, quite unashamed of themselves; and the youngest one had alreadyforgotten his home. 

'John, ' he said, looking around him doubtfully, 'I think I have beenhere before. '

'Of course you have, you silly. There is your old bed. '

'So it is, ' Michael said, but not with much conviction. 

'I say, ' cried John, 'the kennel!' and he dashed across to look into it. 

'Perhaps Nana is inside it, ' Wendy said. 

But John whistled. 'Hullo, ' he said, 'there's a man inside it. '

'It's father!' exclaimed Wendy. 

'Let me see father, ' Michael begged eagerly, and he took a good look. 'He is not so big as the pirate I killed, ' he said with such frankdisappointment that I am glad Mr. Darling was asleep; it would havebeen sad if those had been the first words he heard his little Michaelsay. 

Wendy and John had been taken aback somewhat at finding their father inthe kennel. 

'Surely, ' said John, like one who had lost faith in his memory, 'he usednot to sleep in the kennel?'

'John, ' Wendy said falteringly, 'perhaps we don't remember the old lifeas well as we thought we did. '

A chill fell upon them; and serve them right. 

'It is very careless of mother, ' said that young scoundrel John, 'not tobe here when we come back. '

It was then that Mrs. Darling began playing again. 

'It's mother!' cried Wendy, peeping. 

'So it is!' said John. 

'Then are you not really our mother, Wendy?' asked Michael, who wassurely sleepy. 

'Oh dear!' exclaimed Wendy, with her first real twinge of remorse, 'itwas quite time we came back. '

'Let us creep in, ' John suggested, 'and put our hands over her eyes. '

But Wendy, who saw that they must break the joyous news more gently, had a better plan. 

'Let us all slip into our beds, and be there when she comes in, just asif we had never been away. '

And so when Mrs. Darling went back to the night-nursery to see if herhusband was asleep, all the beds were occupied. The children waited forher cry of joy, but it did not come. She saw them, but she did notbelieve they were there. You see, she saw them in their beds so often inher dreams that she thought this was just the dream hanging around herstill. 

She sat down in the chair by the fire, where in the old days she hadnursed them. 

They could not understand this, and a cold fear fell upon all the threeof them. 

'Mother!' Wendy cried. 

'That's Wendy, ' she said, but still she was sure it was the dream. 

'Mother!'

'That's John, ' she said. 

'Mother!' cried Michael. He knew her now. 

'That's Michael, ' she said, and she stretched out her arms for thethree little selfish children they would never envelop again. Yes, theydid, they went round Wendy and John and Michael, who had slipped out ofbed and run to her. 

'George, George, ' she cried when she could speak; and Mr. Darling woketo share her bliss, and Nana came rushing in. There could not have beena lovelier sight; but there was none to see it except a strange boy whowas staring in at the window. He had ecstasies innumerable that otherchildren can never know; but he was looking through the window at theone joy from which he must be for ever barred. 

CHAPTER XVII

WHEN WENDY GREW UP

I hope you want to know what became of the other boys. They were waitingbelow to give Wendy time to explain about them; and when they hadcounted five hundred they went up. They went up by the stair, becausethey thought this would make a better impression. They stood in a row infront of Mrs. Darling, with their hats off, and wishing they were notwearing their pirate clothes. They said nothing, but their eyes askedher to have them. They ought to have looked at Mr. Darling also, butthey forgot about him. 

Of course Mrs. Darling said at once that she would have them; but Mr. Darling was curiously depressed, and they saw that he considered six arather large number. 

'I must say, ' he said to Wendy, 'that you don't do things by halves, ' agrudging remark which the twins thought was pointed at them. 

The first twin was the proud one, and he asked, flushing, 'Do you thinkwe should be too much of a handful, sir? Because if so we can go away. '

'Father!' Wendy cried, shocked; but still the cloud was on him. He knewhe was behaving unworthily, but he could not help it. 

'We could lie doubled up, ' said Nibs. 

'I always cut their hair myself, ' said Wendy. 

'George!' Mrs. Darling exclaimed, pained to see her dear one showinghimself in such an unfavourable light. 

Then he burst into tears, and the truth came out. He was as glad to havethem as she was, he said, but he thought they should have asked hisconsent as well as hers, instead of treating him as a cypher in his ownhouse. 

'I don't think he is a cypher, ' Tootles cried instantly. 'Do you thinkhe is a cypher, Curly?'

'No, I don't. Do you think he is a cypher, Slightly?'

'Rather not. Twin, what do you think?'

It turned out that not one of them thought him a cypher; and he wasabsurdly gratified, and said he would find space for them all in thedrawing-room if they fitted in. 

'We'll fit in, sir, ' they assured him. 

'Then follow the leader, ' he cried gaily. 'Mind you, I am not sure thatwe have a drawing-room, but we pretend we have, and it's all the same. Hoop la!'

He went off dancing through the house, and they all cried 'Hoop la!' anddanced after him, searching for the drawing-room; and I forget whetherthey found it, but at any rate they found corners, and they all fittedin. 

As for Peter, he saw Wendy once again before he flew away. He did notexactly come to the window, but he brushed against it in passing, sothat she could open it if she liked and call to him. That was what shedid. 

'Hullo, Wendy, good-bye, ' he said. 

'Oh dear, are you going away?'

'Yes. '

'You don't feel, Peter, ' she said falteringly, 'that you would like tosay anything to my parents about a very sweet subject?'

'No. '

'About me, Peter?'

'No. '

Mrs. Darling came to the window, for at present she was keeping a sharpeye on Wendy. She told Peter that she had adopted all the other boys, and would like to adopt him also. 

'Would you send me to school?' he inquired craftily. 

'Yes. '

'And then to an office?'

'I suppose so. '

'Soon I should be a man?'

'Very soon. '

'I don't want to go to school and learn solemn things, ' he told herpassionately. 'I don't want to be a man. O Wendy's mother, if I was towake up and feel there was a beard!'

'Peter, ' said Wendy the comforter, 'I should love you in a beard'; andMrs. Darling stretched out her arms to him, but he repulsed her. 

'Keep back, lady, no one is going to catch me and make me a man. '

'But where are you going to live?'

'With Tink in the house we built for Wendy. The fairies are to put ithigh up among the tree tops where they sleep at nights. '

'How lovely, ' cried Wendy so longingly that Mrs. Darling tightened hergrip. 

'I thought all the fairies were dead, ' Mrs. Darling said. 

'There are always a lot of young ones, ' explained Wendy, who was nowquite an authority, 'because you see when a new baby laughs for thefirst time a new fairy is born, and as there are always new babies thereare always new fairies. They live in nests on the tops of trees; and themauve ones are boys and the white ones are girls, and the blue ones arejust little sillies who are not sure what they are. '

'I shall have such fun, ' said Peter, with one eye on Wendy. 

'It will be rather lonely in the evening, ' she said, 'sitting by thefire. '

'I shall have Tink. '

'Tink can't go a twentieth part of the way round, ' she reminded him alittle tartly. 

'Sneaky tell-tale!' Tink called out from somewhere round the corner. 

'It doesn't matter, ' Peter said. 

'O Peter, you know it matters. '

'Well, then, come with me to the little house. '

'May I, mummy?'

'Certainly not. I have got you home again, and I mean to keep you. '

'But he does so need a mother. '

'So do you, my love. '

'Oh, all right, ' Peter said, as if he had asked her from politenessmerely; but Mrs. Darling saw his mouth twitch, and she made thishandsome offer: to let Wendy go to him for a week every year to do hisspring cleaning. Wendy would have preferred a more permanentarrangement; and it seemed to her that spring would be long in coming;but this promise sent Peter away quite gay again. He had no sense oftime, and was so full of adventures that all I have told you about himis only a halfpenny-worth of them. I suppose it was because Wendy knewthis that her last words to him were these rather plaintive ones:

'You won't forget me, Peter, will you, before spring-cleaning timecomes?'

Of course Peter promised; and then he flew away. He took Mrs. Darling'skiss with him. The kiss that had been for no one else Peter took quiteeasily. Funny. But she seemed satisfied. 

Of course all the boys went to school; and most of them got into ClassIII. , but Slightly was put first into Class IV. And then into Class V. Class I. Is the top class. Before they had attended school a week theysaw what goats they had been not to remain on the island; but it was toolate now, and soon they settled down to being as ordinary as you or meor Jenkins minor. It is sad to have to say that the power to flygradually left them. At first Nana tied their feet to the bed-posts sothat they should not fly away in the night; and one of their diversionsby day was to pretend to fall off 'buses; but by and by they ceased totug at their bonds in bed, and found that they hurt themselves when theylet go of the 'bus. In time they could not even fly after their hats. Want of practice, they called it; but what it really meant was that theyno longer believed. 

Michael believed longer than the other boys, though they jeered at him;so he was with Wendy when Peter came for her at the end of the firstyear. She flew away with Peter in the frock she had woven from leavesand berries in the Neverland, and her one fear was that he might noticehow short it had become; but he never noticed, he had so much to sayabout himself. 

She had looked forward to thrilling talks with him about old times, butnew adventures had crowded the old ones from his mind. 

'Who is Captain Hook?' he asked with interest when she spoke of the archenemy. 

'Don't you remember, ' she asked, amazed, 'how you killed him and savedall our lives?'

'I forget them after I kill them, ' he replied carelessly. 

When she expressed a doubtful hope that Tinker Bell would be glad to seeher he said, 'Who is Tinker Bell?'

'O Peter, ' she said, shocked; but even when she explained he could notremember. 

'There are such a lot of them, ' he said. 'I expect she is no more. '

I expect he was right, for fairies don't live long, but they are solittle that a short time seems a good while to them. 

Wendy was pained too to find that the past year was but as yesterday toPeter; it had seemed such a long year of waiting to her. But he wasexactly as fascinating as ever, and they had a lovely spring cleaning inthe little house on the tree tops. 

Next year he did not come for her. She waited in a new frock because theold one simply would not meet; but he never came. 

'Perhaps he is ill, ' Michael said. 

'You know he is never ill. '

Michael came close to her and whispered, with a shiver, 'Perhaps thereis no such person, Wendy!' and then Wendy would have cried if Michaelhad not been crying. 

Peter came next spring cleaning; and the strange thing was that he neverknew he had missed a year. 

That was the last time the girl Wendy ever saw him. For a little longershe tried for his sake not to have growing pains; and she felt she wasuntrue to him when she got a prize for general knowledge. But the yearscame and went without bringing the careless boy; and when they met againWendy was a married woman, and Peter was no more to her than a littledust in the box in which she had kept her toys. Wendy was grown up. Youneed not be sorry for her. She was one of the kind that likes to growup. In the end she grew up of her own free will a day quicker than othergirls. 

All the boys were grown up and done for by this time; so it is scarcelyworth while saying anything more about them. You may see the twins andNibs and Curly any day going to an office, each carrying a little bagand an umbrella. Michael is an engine-driver. Slightly married a lady oftitle, and so he became a lord. You see that judge in a wig coming outat the iron door? That used to be Tootles. The bearded man who doesn'tknow any story to tell his children was once John. 

Wendy was married in white with a pink sash. It is strange to thinkthat Peter did not alight in the church and forbid the banns. 

Years rolled on again, and Wendy had a daughter. This ought not to bewritten in ink but in a golden splash. 

She was called Jane, and always had an odd inquiring look, as if fromthe moment she arrived on the mainland she wanted to ask questions. Whenshe was old enough to ask them they were mostly about Peter Pan. Sheloved to hear of Peter, and Wendy told her all she could remember in thevery nursery from which the famous flight had taken place. It was Jane'snursery now, for her father had bought it at the three per cents. FromWendy's father, who was no longer fond of stairs. Mrs. Darling was nowdead and forgotten. 

There were only two beds in the nursery now, Jane's and her nurse's; andthere was no kennel, for Nana also had passed away. She died of old age, and at the end she had been rather difficult to get on with; being veryfirmly convinced that no one knew how to look after children exceptherself. 

Once a week Jane's nurse had her evening off; and then it was Wendy'spart to put Jane to bed. That was the time for stories. It was Jane'sinvention to raise the sheet over her mother's head and her own, thusmaking a tent, and in the awful darkness to whisper:

'What do we see now?'

'I don't think I see anything to-night, ' says Wendy, with a feeling thatif Nana were here she would object to further conversation. 

'Yes, you do, ' says Jane, 'you see when you were a little girl. '

'That is a long time ago, sweetheart, ' says Wendy. 'Ah me, how timeflies!'

'Does it fly, ' asks the artful child, 'the way you flew when you were alittle girl?'

'The way I flew! Do you know, Jane, I sometimes wonder whether I everdid really fly. '

'Yes, you did. '

'The dear old days when I could fly!'

'Why can't you fly now, mother?'

'Because I am grown up, dearest. When people grow up they forget theway. '

'Why do they forget the way?'

'Because they are no longer gay and innocent and heartless. It is onlythe gay and innocent and heartless who can fly. '

'What is gay and innocent and heartless? I do wish I was gay andinnocent and heartless. '

Or perhaps Wendy admits that she does see something. 'I do believe, ' shesays, 'that it is this nursery. '

'I do believe it is, ' says Jane. 'Go on. '

They are now embarked on the great adventure of the night when Peterflew in looking for his shadow. 

'The foolish fellow, ' says Wendy, 'tried to stick it on with soap, andwhen he could not he cried, and that woke me, and I sewed it on forhim. '

'You have missed a bit, ' interrupts Jane, who now knows the story betterthan her mother. 'When you saw him sitting on the floor crying what didyou say?'

'I sat up in bed and I said, "Boy, why are you crying?"'

'Yes, that was it, ' says Jane, with a big breath. 

'And then he flew us all away to the Neverland and the fairies and thepirates and the redskins and the mermaids' lagoon, and the home underthe ground, and the little house. '

'Yes! which did you like best of all?'

'I think I liked the home under the ground best of all. '

'Yes, so do I. What was the last thing Peter ever said to you?'

'The last thing he ever said to me was, "Just always be waiting for me, and then some night you will hear me crowing. "'

'Yes. '

'But, alas, he forgot all about me. ' Wendy said it with a smile. She wasas grown up as that. 

'What did his crow sound like?' Jane asked one evening. 

'It was like this, ' Wendy said, trying to imitate Peter's crow. 

'No, it wasn't, ' Jane said gravely, 'it was like this'; and she did itever so much better than her mother. 

Wendy was a little startled. 'My darling, how can you know?'

'I often hear it when I am sleeping, ' Jane said. 

'Ah yes, many girls hear it when they are sleeping, but I was the onlyone who heard it awake. '

'Lucky you, ' said Jane. 

And then one night came the tragedy. It was the spring of the year, andthe story had been told for the night, and Jane was now asleep in herbed. Wendy was sitting on the floor, very close to the fire, so as tosee to darn, for there was no other light in the nursery; and while shesat darning she heard a crow. Then the window blew open as of old, andPeter dropped on the floor. 

He was exactly the same as ever, and Wendy saw at once that he still hadall his first teeth. 

He was a little boy, and she was grown up. She huddled by the fire notdaring to move, helpless and guilty, a big woman. 

'Hullo, Wendy, ' he said, not noticing any difference, for he wasthinking chiefly of himself; and in the dim light her white dress mighthave been the night-gown in which he had seen her first. 

'Hullo, Peter, ' she replied faintly, squeezing herself as small aspossible. Something inside her was crying 'Woman, woman, let go of me. '

'Hullo, where is John?' he asked, suddenly missing the third bed. 

'John is not here now, ' she gasped. 

'Is Michael asleep?' he asked, with a careless glance at Jane. 

'Yes, ' she answered; and now she felt that she was untrue to Jane aswell as to Peter. 

'That is not Michael, ' she said quickly, lest a judgment should fall onher. 

Peter looked. 'Hullo, is it a new one?'

'Yes. '

'Boy or girl?'

'Girl. '

Now surely he would understand; but not a bit of it. 

'Peter, ' she said, faltering, 'are you expecting me to fly away withyou?'

'Of course that is why I have come. ' He added a little sternly, 'Haveyou forgotten that this is spring-cleaning time?'

She knew it was useless to say that he had let many spring-cleaningtimes pass. 

'I can't come, ' she said apologetically, 'I have forgotten how to fly. '

'I'll soon teach you again. '

'O Peter, don't waste the fairy dust on me. '

She had risen; and now at last a fear assailed him. 'What is it?' hecried, shrinking. 

'I will turn up the light, ' she said, 'and then you can see foryourself. '

For almost the only time in his life that I know of, Peter was afraid. 'Don't turn up the light, ' he cried. 

She let her hands play in the hair of the tragic boy. She was not alittle girl heart-broken about him; she was a grown woman smiling at itall, but they were wet smiles. 

Then she turned up the light, and Peter saw. He gave a cry of pain; andwhen the tall beautiful creature stooped to lift him in her arms he drewback sharply. 

'What is it?' he cried again. 

She had to tell him. 

'I am old, Peter. I am ever so much more than twenty. I grew up longago. '

'You promised not to!'

'I couldn't help it. I am a married woman, Peter. '

'No, you're not. '

'Yes, and the little girl in the bed is my baby. '

'No, she's not. '

But he supposed she was; and he took a step towards the sleeping childwith his dagger upraised. Of course he did not strike. He sat down onthe floor instead and sobbed; and Wendy did not know how to comfort him, though she could have done it so easily once. She was only a woman now, and she ran out of the room to try to think. 

Peter continued to cry, and soon his sobs woke Jane. She sat up in bed, and was interested at once. 

[Illustration: PETER AND JANE]

'Boy, ' she said, 'why are you crying?'

Peter rose and bowed to her, and she bowed to him from the bed. 

'Hullo, ' he said. 

'Hullo, ' said Jane. 

'My name is Peter Pan, ' he told her. 

'Yes, I know. '

'I came back for my mother, ' he explained; 'to take her to theNeverland. '

'Yes, I know, ' Jane said, 'I been waiting for you. '

When Wendy returned diffidently she found Peter sitting on the bed-postcrowing gloriously, while Jane in her nighty was flying round the roomin solemn ecstasy. 

'She is my mother, ' Peter explained; and Jane descended and stood by hisside, with the look on her face that he liked to see on ladies when theygazed at him. 

'He does so need a mother, ' Jane said. 

'Yes, I know, ' Wendy admitted rather forlornly; 'no one knows it so wellas I. '

'Good-bye, ' said Peter to Wendy; and he rose in the air, and theshameless Jane rose with him; it was already her easiest way of movingabout. 

Wendy rushed to the window. 

'No, no, ' she cried. 

'It is just for spring-cleaning time, ' Jane said; 'he wants me always todo his spring cleaning. '

'If only I could go with you, ' Wendy sighed. 

'You see you can't fly, ' said Jane. 

Of course in the end Wendy let them fly away together. Our last glimpseof her shows her at the window, watching them receding into the skyuntil they were as small as stars. 

As you look at Wendy you may see her hair becoming white, and her figurelittle again, for all this happened long ago. Jane is now a commongrown-up, with a daughter called Margaret; and every spring-cleaningtime, except when he forgets, Peter comes for Margaret and takes her tothe Neverland, where she tells him stories about himself, to which helistens eagerly. When Margaret grows up she will have a daughter, who isto be Peter's mother in turn; and thus it will go on, so long aschildren are gay and innocent and heartless. 

THE END