d in the sun like
jewels. The brook that ran down from the fells was tumbling along in a
great brown stream, thundering under the bridge; robins, hopping in the
wet hedgerows, twittered their plaintive little autumn song. A woman
picked a marigold from her battered, rain-sodden garden, and handed it
over the wall to Wendy. Everybody seemed to want to speak, even to
strangers, and to tell how many of their relations had served in the
war.

At last the omnibus, ten minutes late, came rumbling along, and stopped
to pick up passengers. The school scrambled in, and with difficulty
found places. It was a jolting journey, much crammed up among country
people with baskets, but it was fun, even though the rattling almost
shook them off their seats, for all the passengers seemed so
good-tempered and jolly. On their arrival at Glenbury they found the
town _en fete_, with bunting hanging across the streets, and large
banners decorating the public buildings. The pavements were so full that
the crowd overflowed into the road. The cyclist members of the
Pendlemere party had arrived first, and had already bought flags, which
they pinned in their hats. The motor-omnibus contingent rushed off
immediately to secure any that were left, and to try to get some sweets.
Miss Todd, who had put up the cart at the Queen's Hotel, met them as
they were emerging from the confectioner's, sucking pear-drops and
toffee.

"You're lucky, for sweets are scarce," she commented. "Thanks very
much--I won't have one just now. Where are the others? Can you find
them? I'm going to take you all up the church tower to get a bird's-eye
view of the town. It will look nice to-day, with the flags out, and we
ought to be able to see for miles round."

Glenbury Church was almost as large as a cathedral, and possessed a
steeple which was a landmark for the neighbourhood. It was possible to
ascend as far as the flying buttresses, and to walk round a stone
causeway that encircled the tower just where the spire tapered up. The
entrance was in the nave, through a small oak door studded with nails.
The verger, aged, wheezy, and inclined to conversation, admitted them.

"You'll get a fine view," he said huskily; "you ought to be able to see
the prison and the cemetery, and, with luck, the lunatic asylum as well.
It's over amongst the trees to the east of Chatford. You can't miss it
if the sun's shining on the roof. There's been a-many folks up to-day."

The narrow corks