“There, Lob!” said Gerda suddenly, holding out sixpence and three pennies.

Wolf let the child go and stood up.

Their eyes met through the boy’s violent scramble and snatching clutch. They met through his cry of “Finding’s keepings, losing’s seekings! Bet me enough to make a shilling! I be a prime grand better, I be!”

And, as their eyes met, the shyness that they had felt before changed into a thrilling solemnity. For one quick moment they held each other’s gaze; and it was as if they had been overtaken simultaneously by an awestruck recognition of some great unknown Immortal, who had suddenly appeared between them, with a hand upon each.

Then the girl turned to her brother.

“I bet you, Lob,” she said, “you won’t find a blackbird’s nest round here with eggs in it!”