'Why not?' the children asked in their dream. 'Because they are a sign that a part of each of you belongs to Rumpty-Dudget; and he will not let go of that part, in spite of all that I can do.' 'Shall we never be able to go with you, then?' dreamed the children piteously. 'Not until the wind blows from the south every day in the week. When that happens the spots will vanish, and I will take you all three in my arms, and fly with you over the tops of the trees to Fairyland.' 'And what shall we see there?' the children asked. 'You will see the Queen, your mother.' 'And shall we see you too?' 'Yes, I shall be with you.' 'And Tom the Cat too?' 'What you have loved in Tom the Cat will be there too,' answered the fairy, smiling. 'But how shall we make the wind blow from the south every day in the week?' At that the fairy smiled and shook her head, and touched each one of them on the heart; and no other answer would she give. So the children were no wiser on that point than before. Thus time went on steadily, to-morrow always going before to-day, and yesterday invariably bringing up the rear, until a year was past; and what should come round again but Rumpty-Dudget's birthday, the most unlucky day of all the three hundred and sixty five! An hour and twenty seconds before sunset Tom the Cat said to the children: 'Now, you must be very careful, while I am away, to do as I tell you. Do not go out into the garden, do not touch the black ball that lies on the nursery table, and do not jump against the north wind; for if you do----' But at this moment the hour struck, and Tom the Cat sprang into the air and disappeared like a soap bubble. For a while the three children remembered what had been said to them; they played quietly in the palace, and did not touch the black ball on the nursery table. But towards sunset it so happened that they were all leaning against the table, with their elbows resting on it, and their heads between their hands. There lay the black ball mysterious and quiet. The longer the children looked at it the more mysterious it appeared. At last Hilda said: 'I wonder where it came from?' 'I wonder what it's made of?' said Harold. 'I wonder why we mustn't touch it?' said Hector. Then all three looked at it steadily for another minute. Then Hilda exclaimed suddenly: 'I believe it moved!' 'So do I!' cried Harold. 'I don't!' said Hector. 'But I can make it move.' And with that he gave the table a tip, and the black ball rolled off, bounced on to the floor, and jumped out of the window into the garden. 'You have disobeyed Tom the Cat,' said Hilda, after a pause. 'How shall we ever get it back again?' cried Harold, running to the window and looking out. 'Oh, I can see it! there, in the middle of the lawn.' 'Yes, but we are not to go into the garden,' said Hilda. 'It is all Hector's fault,' said Harold. 'I am going into the garden to play with the ball,' said Hector boldly; and he walked off.