with unusual energy, and savagely beheaded, with his stick, a tall thistle at the road-side, behind which I was startled to see Sylvie and Bruno standing. I caught at his arm, but too late to stop him. Whether the stick reached them, or not, I could not feel sure: at any rate they took not the smallest notice of it, but smiled gaily, and nodded to me; and I saw at once that they were only visible to me: the 'eerie' influence had not reached to Arthur.
"Why did you try to save it?" he said. "That's not the wheedling Secretary of a Charity-Bazaar! I only wish it were!" he added grimly.
"Doos oo know, that stick went right froo my head!" said Bruno. (They had run round to me by this time, and each had secured a hand.) "Just under my chin! I are glad I aren't a thistle!"
"Well, we've threshed that subject out, anyhow!" Arthur resumed. "I'm afraid I've been talking too much, for your patience and for my strength. I must be turning soon. This is about the end of my tether."
