"
"Peter, don't be silly," ordered Rudolf sternly. "There isn't really
anything that can happen to us," he went on, speaking slowly and
thoughtfully, "because we all know that we really are in bed. We know
we didn't get _out_, so of course we must be _in_."
This was good sense, yet somehow it was not so comforting as it ought
to have been, not even to Rudolf himself who now began to be troubled
by a disagreeable kind of lump in his throat. Luckily he remembered,
in time to save himself from the disgrace of tears, how his father had
once told him that whistling was an excellent remedy for boys who did
not feel quite happy in their minds. He began to whistle now, a poor,
weak, little whistle at first, but growing stronger as he began to
feel more cheerful. Grasping his sword, he started ahead, calling to
the others to follow him.
The white passage was so narrow that the children had to walk along it
one behind another in Indian file. The floor was no longer soft and
yielding but firm and hard under their feet, and by stretching out
their hands they could almost touch the smooth white walls on either
side of them. At first the way was perfectly straight ahead, but after
they had walked what seemed to them a long, long time, the passage
curved sharply and widened a little. The children noticed, much to
their relief, that it was growing lighter around them.
Pages:
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26