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           Christopher,orQueenVictoria?"

           "I’mDonJuan!"Amoryshoutedonimpulse,raisinghisvoiceabovethenoiseoftherainandthewind.

           Adelightedshriekcamefromthehaystack.

           "Iknowwhoyouare—you’retheblondboythatlikes’Ulalume’—Irecognizeyourvoice."

           "HowdoIgetup?"hecriedfromthefootofthehaystack,whitherhehadarrived,drippingwet.Aheadappearedovertheedge—itwassodarkthatAmorycouldjustmakeoutapatchofdamphairandtwoeyesthatgleamedlikeacat’s.

           "Runback!"camethevoice,"andjumpandI’llcatchyourhand—no,notthere—ontheotherside."

           Hefolloweddirectionsandashesprawleduptheside,knee-deepinhay,asmall,whitehandreachedout,grippedhis,andhelpedhimontothetop.

           "Hereyouare,Juan,"criedsheofthedamphair."DoyoumindifIdroptheDon?"

           "You’vegotathumblikemine!"heexclaimed.

           "Andyou’reholdingmyhand,whichisdangerouswithoutseeingmyface."Hedroppeditquickly.

           Asifinanswertohisprayerscameaflashoflightningandhelookedeagerlyatherwhostoodbesidehimonthesoggyhaystack,tenfeetabovetheground.Butshehadcoveredherfaceandhesawnothingbutaslenderfigure,dark,damp,bobbedhair,andthesmallwhitehandswiththethumbsthatbentbacklikehis.

           "Sitdown,"shesuggestedpolitely,asthedarkclosedinonthem."Ifyou’llsitoppositemeinthishollowyoucanhavehalfoftheraincoat,whichIwasusingasawater-prooftentuntilyousorudelyinterruptedme."