“By then it may be too late.” Penelope quickened

her pace even more. “But tell me, how many beasts are

in there? And how long have they been carrying on

so?”

“Miss Lumley, you don’t understand!” The two

ladies had reached the barn, and Mrs. Clarke flung

herself in front of Penelope, blocking the doors. “It’s

the children,” she said, shaking with upset. “The chil-

dren are”—huff, puff—“inside”—puff!—“the barn!”

“The children!” Penelope stopped short. “With

those agitated dogs? Surely that is unwise!”

Mrs. Clarke merely stammered, “Eh!—eh!—eh!” but

offered no explanation.

Then Penelope had a terrifying thought. “Per-

haps the children grew worried for the safety of their

beloved ponies and rushed inside to protect them!”

she cried. “Surely that is what I would have done, had

I been in their place!”

“Ponies?” Mrs. Clarke looked bewildered. “What

ponies? We don’t have any ponies—”

“Ahwoooooooooooooo!”

“Ahwoooooooooooooo!”

“Ahwoooooooooooooo!”

Without further discussion, Penelope shoved the

distraught housekeeper aside, leaned her full weight

against the great wooden doors, and pushed them

open.

As the sunlight flooded the dark interior, the howling

abruptly stopped. Penelope looked around. The barn

smelled strongly of leather and hay, but the stalls—

at least, those she could see—were empty. The sudden

silence was broken only by the panting of Mrs. Clarke,

who stood silhouetted in the doorway, clutching her

voluminous bosom.

“Hello?” Penelope said, in a soft, soothing tone.

“Oh, you unfortunate creatures, are you all right?”

Slowly, noiselessly, something moved inside the

barn. Three sets of eyes glinted from the dark corners

of the rearmost stalls, where the sun did not reach.

“Come here.” Penelope wished she had thought to

bring some scraps of meat with her to lure the poor

frightened things. “Come out where I can see you.”

The creatures obeyed.

They were not dogs, or ponies, or any other kind

of four-legged animal. They were three children, and

they stared at Penelope with the shining, watchful eyes

of wild things.

All three were wrapped in coarse saddle blankets

but wore no other clothing, not even shoes. Their

hair was long and tangled and of the same distinctive