saying your prayers,' says he. 'I wasn't saying my prayers,' I answered.

`Oh, yes, you were,' said he, `though you didn't know it! And now I must

show you something else.'

“He took my hand and led me down the stair again, and through a narrow

passage, and through another, and another, and another. I don't know

how there could be room for so many passages in such a little house. The

heart of it must be ever so much farther from the sides than they are

from each other. How could it have an inside that was so independent of

its outside? There's the point. It was funny--wasn't it, Diamond?”

“No,” said Diamond. He was going to say that that was very much the sort

of thing at the back of the north wind; but he checked himself and only

added, “All right. I don't see it. I don't see why the inside should

depend on the outside. It ain't so with the crabs. They creep out of

their outsides and make new ones. Mr. Raymond told me so.”

“I don't see what that has got to do with it,” said Nanny.

“Then go on with your story, please,” said Diamond. “What did you come

to, after going through all those winding passages into the heart of the

moon?”

“I didn't say they were winding passages. I said they were long and

narrow. They didn't wind. They went by corners.”

“That's worth knowing,” remarked Diamond. “For who knows how soon he may

have to go there? But the main thing is, what did you come to at last?”

“We came to a small box against the wall of a tiny room. The little man

told me to put my ear against it. I did so, and heard a noise something

like the purring of a cat, only not so loud, and much sweeter. `What is

it?' I asked. `Don't you know the sound?' returned the little man. `No,'

I answered. `Don't you know the sound of bees?' he said. I had never

heard bees, and could not know the sound of them. `Those are my lady's

bees,' he went on. I had heard that bees gather honey from the flowers.

`But where are the flowers for them?' I asked. `My lady's bees gather

their honey from the sun and the stars,' said the little man. `Do let

me see them,' I said. `No. I daren't do that,' he answered. `I have no

business with them. I don't understand them. Besides, they are so bright

that if one were to fly into your eye, it would blind you altogether.'

`Then you have seen them?' `Oh, yes! Once or twice, I think. But I don't

quite know: they are so very bright--like buttons of lightning. Now

I've showed you all I can to-night, and we'll go back to the room.' I

followed him, and he made me sit down under a lamp that hung from the

roof, and gave me some bread and honey.

“The lady had never moved. She sat with her forehead leaning on her

hand, gazing out of the little window, hung like the rest with white

cloudy curtains. From where I was sitting I looked out of it too, but I

could see nothing. Her face was very beautiful, and very white, and very

still, and her hand was as white as the forehead that leaned on it. I

did not see her whole face--only the side of it, for she never moved to

turn it full upon me, or even to look at me.

“How long I sat after I had eaten my bread and honey, I don't know. The

little man was busy about the room, pulling a string here, and a string

there, but chiefly the string at the back of the door. I was thinking

with some uneasiness that he would soon be wanting me to go out and

clean the windows, and I didn't fancy the job. At last he came up to me

with a great armful of dusters. `It's time you set about the windows,'

he said; `for there's rain coming, and if they're quite clean before,

then the rain can't spoil them.' I got up at once. `You needn't be

afraid,' he said. `You won't tumble off. Only you must be careful.

Always hold on with one hand while you rub with the other.' As he spoke,

he opened the door. I started back in a terrible fright, for there was

nothing but blue air to be seen under me, like a great water without a

bottom at all. But what must be must, and to live up here was so much

nicer than down in the mud with holes in my shoes, that I never thought

of not doing as I was told. The little man showed me how and where to

lay hold while I put my foot round the edge of the door on to the first

round of a ladder. `Once you're up,' he said, `you'll see how you have

to go well enough.' I did as he told me, and crept out very carefully.

Then the little man handed me the bundle of dusters, saying, `I always

carry them on my reaping hook, but I don't think you could manage it

properly. You shall have it if you like.' I wouldn't take it, however,

for it looked dangerous.

“I did the best I could with the dusters, and crawled up to the top

of the moon. But what a grand sight it was! The stars were all over my

head, so bright and so near that I could almost have laid hold of them.

The round ball to which I clung went bobbing and floating away through

the dark blue above and below and on every side. It was so beautiful

that all fear left me, and I set to work diligently. I cleaned window

after window. At length I came to a very little one, in at which I

peeped. There was the room with the box of bees in it! I laid my ear to

the window, and heard the musical hum quite distinctly. A great longing

to see them came upon me, and I opened the window and crept in.

The little box had a door like a closet. I opened it--the tiniest

crack--when out came the light with such a sting that I closed it again

in terror--not, however, before three bees had shot out into the room,

where they darted about like flashes of lightning. Terribly frightened,

I tried to get out of the window again, but I could not: there was no

way to the outside of the moon but through the door; and that was in

the room where the lady sat. No sooner had I reached the room, than the

three bees, which had followed me, flew at once to the lady, and settled

upon her hair. Then first I saw her move. She started, put up her hand,

and caught them; then rose and, having held them into the flame of the

lamp one after the other, turned to me. Her face was not so sad now as

stern. It frightened me much. `Nanny, you have got me into trouble,' she

said. `You have been letting out my bees, which it is all I can do to

manage. You have forced me to burn them. It is a great loss, and there

will be a storm.' As she spoke, the clouds had gathered all about us. I

could see them come crowding up white about the windows. `I am sorry to

find,' said the lady, `that you are not to be trusted. You must go home

again--you won't do for us.' Then came a great clap of thunder, and the

moon rocked and swayed. All grew dark about me, and I fell on the floor

and lay half-stunned. I could hear everything but could see nothing.

`Shall I throw her out of the door, my lady?' said the little man.

`No,' she answered; `she's not quite bad enough for that. I don't think

there's much harm in her; only she'll never do for us. She would make

dreadful mischief up here. She's only fit for the mud. It's a great

pity. I am sorry for her. Just take that ring off her finger. I am sadly

afraid she has stolen it.' The little man caught hold of my hand, and I

felt him tugging at the ring. I tried to speak what was true about it,

but, after a terrible effort, only gave a groan. Other things began to

come into my head. Somebody else had a hold of me. The little man wasn't

there. I opened my eyes at last, and saw the nurse. I had cried out in