"What's the good of wings that let you drop the moment you try to fly with them. Hiram Brown is as dead as a door nail with his wings. No, wings fastened on _that_ way will never work. Our internal machinery isn't made like birds'." As he spoke a parrot flew overhead, its brilliant wings flashing in the sunlight and then becoming apparently motionless as it swooped down towards the house. Hugh's eyes followed it intently, and presently he rolled over again and resumed his study of the steam-engine. "Wings," he murmured, "after all wings are the right things to fly with. Why not make the whole thing, body and all." He frowned hard as he concentrated his whole attention upon the toy before him. "Wings--and steam--a boiler--" The boys and Mollie watched him curiously. This was the Thought that came before the Thing, Mollie thought, remembering her conversation with Aunt Mary. It was rather like a game of hide-and-seek. Hugh was getting warm--how near would he get? They tried to catch the disjointed words that fell from his lips at intervals. "Wings," he muttered again, "and a place for the flier--why not a car--a--a--a box like an engine-driver's, with handles for controlling--" In the minds of the English children, now listening breathlessly, there arose a vividly distinct image of an aeroplane, darkly silhouetted against a pale English sky. How many they had seen! Hugh's mutterings ceased. It seemed to Mollie that the world had grown very still. She fancied that she could almost hear the blossoms dropping on the grass; there was a faint stir of leaves as a stray breeze came wandering by, and another sound mingled with that stir--a far-away hum--hum--growing louder every moment! The English children looked at each other. Was this one of Grizzel's miracles? Their eyes turned to the sky--yes, there it came! It winged its way like a mighty bird, singing its strange rough song. Prue dropped her work and stood up, Grizzel let fall her pencil and clung to Prue, Hugh leapt to his feet and ran down the steps, his face upturned to the clouds. "Oh, what is it?" he cried. "What is it? Who are you?" The aeroplane swooped down as the bird had done, till it was straight overhead, then, with a lovely curve, it skimmed away, the great wings outstretched as the bird's had been, away into the distant blue! Hugh held out his arms. "Don't go--oh, don't go!" he cried. "Come back, come back!" But it had gone. The English children looked at each other again, and from each other to Hugh. "_We_ brought it," whispered Jerry, "it was a Time-traveller." Mollie turned to the Australians. The sunlight fell on Hugh's pale face, on Grizzel's ruddy curls; there was a faint smile on Prue's lips. "Oh, we have brought our Time too near," she exclaimed. "It is good-bye! No, no, Prue! Oh--_this_ time it is good-bye!" * * * * * "No, no--I don't want to wake up yet! It is too soon! I haven't said good-bye. Not yet, Aunt Mary!"