To Molly the return journey had seemed very short, partly because of the short cuts they had taken, and partly because they had been able to keep straight ahead, as there was now no searching or dodging to delay them. But altogether they had travelled many miles and had been several hours on the journey, and the night was now far advanced. It was a perfect night, warm and still and clear, for the moon sailed overhead, flooding the land with its beautiful white light. Many of the citizens had already gone out on to the hill by the West Gate, in readiness to see them pass down to Old Nancy’s. Those that were left joined in the procession at the rear. On passing Glan’s shop they found that his Father and Aunt Janet had already gone ahead, as they did not know which way the procession was coming, and they wanted ‘a front seat,’ Glan said. Outside the West Gate the King was waiting, and he put his hands on Molly’s shoulders and thanked her very sincerely in the name of the country. Then he walked with her down the hill, and she told him about Jack. The hill was packed with people, eager, murmuring, straining to catch a glimpse of Molly and the Pumpkins. As she drew near Old Nancy’s cottage, Molly saw that a wide space had been cleared around the cottage by the City guards; and there was Old Nancy standing waiting by her door, the firelight flickering in the room behind her, just as she had stood when Molly had last seen her. She held out her hands to Molly when she caught sight of the little girl. The King gently urged Molly forward, and so she stepped out alone into the open space, and went toward Old Nancy, the two Pumpkins following obediently. Then a strange hush fell over the huge crowd gathered on the hill, and every one waited expectantly for what was about to happen. “Here is the Black Leaf,” said Molly, handing the Leaf to Old Nancy. “And here is the Grey Pumpkin—and Jack.” Old Nancy stooped and kissed Molly on the forehead. “My dear, how can I thank you,” she said. “But tell me how this happened,” and she motioned toward the two Pumpkins. Molly explained. The people around could not hear what Molly said, but the whisper ran from one to the other that one of the Pumpkins was the little girl’s brother who was under a spell. “Oh, will you bring Jack back again?” begged Molly anxiously. Old Nancy looked gravely at each of the Pumpkins in turn. “Which _is_ Jack,” she muttered to herself. Then she peered closer—stretching out her hand and turning each of the Pumpkins over and round about. The crowd gasped when she first touched the Pumpkins; it was difficult to get used to the idea that the Pumpkin was harmless now. “A pin was stuck in the Pumpkin pincushion,” she said to herself. “Let me see now, let me see now.... Ah.... Then _this_ one is the Grey Pumpkin,” cried Old Nancy, triumphantly. “For there is a big pin stuck through the top of him now.”