“Because the thirteen days start on the anniversary of the day on which the little dwarf was put inside the Pumpkin,” said Old Nancy. “And, as fate decrees, it was the anniversary yesterday, _so the Black Leaf is somewhere above ground now_.... Oh, I do hope and trust you will be successful, my dears.” Old Nancy clasped her hands together nervously. “And don’t be ashamed to _run_ if the Pumpkin tries to catch you before the Leaf is found. You are powerless against him and his magic—until you have the Leaf. But he can only use his magic and hurt you if he touches you, remember. So don’t let him touch you!” “We’ll _run_ all right, if we see him coming,” said Jack. “Or else we’ll climb up a tree or something.” “Well, that’s a good idea, too,” said Old Nancy. “I suppose it’s really a rather—dangerous sort of work we’re going to do,” said Molly. “It is dangerous, and very brave of you to attempt it,” Old Nancy said. “It needs courage and perseverance. I think you both have pluck, and you both have perseverance; somehow I think one—but only _one_ of you will be successful.” “Which one?” cried Jack and Molly eagerly. “Ah!” Old Nancy replied, and shook her head mysteriously. “I cannot tell you any more than that.... But now we must get to work immediately. There is no time to be lost. Wait here for a moment.” She rose, and smiling at the children, made her way across the firelit room and passed out through a doorway at the far end of the room. Jack and Molly sat still and gazed silently round the shadowy room. They could never afterward describe the feeling that came over them, alone in that room—even to themselves. They were not afraid. A curious feeling crept over them, and they both felt sure that there was something or someone in the room with them, although they felt equally sure there was no one. There was an air of mystery and secrecy in the room. No shadows danced on walls quite in the way that they danced in Old Nancy’s room; no smoke curled in such weird and fantastic shapes as the smoke that curled up the wide chimney in front of them; while it almost seemed ridiculous to say that the chairs were empty when the _something_ in the room crowded into each of them. “‘I am a kind of magician, you know,’” repeated Molly softly, nodding her head at Jack. “Do you know I can _feel_ that she is.” “So can I,” whispered Jack, hoarsely. The children looked at each other seriously for a few seconds, then they turned their heads, and saw that Old Nancy was standing in the doorway watching them. She came forward into the firelight, and they saw that she carried two small satchels in her hands. They were something like the children’s school satchels, only they were smaller and stronger in appearance, being made of soft black leather; they had long straps attached to them, to pass over the shoulders.