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Wendy's heart had been beating they would all have heard it.

      Slightly was the first to speak. 'This is no bird,' he said in a scared voice. '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 threw himself sorrowfully on the ground.

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

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

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

      'I did it,' he said, reflecting. 'When ladies used to come to me in dreams, I said, "Pretty mother, pretty mother." But when at last she really 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 the heart of every one of them rise to his mouth. They heard Peter crow.

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

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

      Again came that ringing crow, and Peter dropped in front of them. 'Greeting, boys,' he cried, and mechanically they saluted, and then again 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 overlooked it in his haste to tell the glorious tidings.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

      He thought of hopping off in a comic sort of way till he was out of sight of her, and then never going near the spot any more. They would all 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 a dagger.

      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 cannot strike,' 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 and listened 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 had put it on a chain that she wore round her neck.

      'See,' he said, 'the arrow struck against this. It is the kiss I gave her. 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, so that 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 they seen him look so stern.

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

      She flew on to his shoulder and pleaded, but he brushed her off. Not until 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? Oh dear 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 be sufficiently 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 you the 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, and while they were at it, who should appear but John and Michael. As they dragged 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, and mother?'

      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. He was very busy at the moment measuring Wendy with his feet to see how large a house she would need. Of course he meant to leave room for chairs 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 supper for us'; but as he said it some of the other boys rushed on carrying branches for the building of the house.

      'Look at them!' he cried.

      'Curly,' said Peter in his most captainy voice, 'see that these boys help 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

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