‘Which way are you going?’ Lucindra asked.

‘To the Crossways,’ he answered, smiling down at them.

‘Where’s that?’

‘Don’t you know?’ They didn’t, and then he told them that in the heart of the forest there was an open space where many roads met; ‘and one of those roads,’ he said, ‘leads to the land of your heart’s desire.’

‘But how would anyone find the place?’ Lucindra asked.

‘Easily,’ said the pedlar. ‘Just follow the full moon until you come to it.’ He pointed upwards and there was the full moon hanging low over the forest.

‘But how do people know which road to take?’ Lucindra asked.

‘Oh, it’s marked with a signpost,’ said the pedlar. He laughed again and rode off, and they went back into the house, which seemed very dull and empty.

Soon after that their father came in and the children at once began to tell him about the pedlar. They were still very excited and could think of nothing else, for they had never had such an adventure in their lives before. ‘Did you see him in the forest?’ they asked. ‘I saw no pedlar,’ he answered frowning. ‘I believe you dreamed the whole thing.’

‘Oh, no, we didn’t. Look, look, look.’ And disregarding their mother’s warning glance they showed him the bracelet and the penknife, and made Lucindra go and fetch her necklace, for she had already put it away. When he saw the necklace he grew still more angry and upbraided her bitterly for spending so much money. ‘We’re hard up as is,’ he said, ‘and you must needs go buying things from this smooth-tongued scoundrel. Never let me see you wearing them.’ Peter and Olga began to cry, and their mother let the necklace slip through her fingers on to the floor. ‘If ever I catch him I shall know what to do with him,’ Michael said. So they never told him the rest of the story or spoke of the pedlar any more.

It was a hard winter and it set in early, but in spite of that people did not seem to want wood as they used to, and Michael grew more and more morose and sour. Often when he came home he would not speak to them at all, and sat apart brooding, or went out again mysteriously and did not come back till after midnight. There was no pleasing him. If they sat quiet as mice he would complain of their silence; if they talked he would tell them to shut up. This was not so bad for the children as it was for their mother, for they now went to the village school and so had company. It was a long way to walk but they enjoyed it; they felt free the moment they got out of the house, and rather dreaded coming back, to find their mother drooping and listless, and their father, if he was at home, not lifting his head when they came in. Sometimes they lingered and talked to their friends, but they never spoke the state of things at home, because they had promised their mother not to.

One evening they had stayed away later than usual and were beginning to feel hungry and look forward to the hot, steaming supper their mother always prepared for them; so in spite of everything they found themselves longing for the moment in their homeward walk when they could first see the light shining through the windows. But there was no light and when they got into the house it was empty. They called and called but nobody answered, so they began to feel rather frightened and went out of doors again. It was much lighter out of doors because there was a moon.

‘It’s a full moon,’ whispered Peter to Olga, ‘like that evening the pedlar came.’

They went back into the house and found some matches and lit the lamp, and felt a little more cheerful, for it showed them their supper keeping warm on the hearth. They did not go to bed when they had eaten their supper; they sat in chairs like grown-up people. But Peter had gone to sleep before their father came in.

‘Where’s Cindra?’ he said in a thick voice. (He called her Cindra sometimes.) ‘I asked you, where’s Cindra?’ Peter woke up and began to cry. They told him all they knew. ‘But she can’t be gone,’ said Michael disbelievingly. ‘She wouldn’t leave us.’ He got up and went into the bedroom and stayed there a long time. When he came back his hand shook and he was so pale that his hair looked quite black. ‘It’s true,’ he said, ‘she has gone. I found a letter. She says I’m not to try to follow her. She’s gone where her heart calls her. What shall we do? What shall we do?’

When Olga saw that he was frightened she suddenly felt sorry for him and much less frightened herself.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘We know where she’s gone to, don’t we, Peter?’

‘Where, where?’ their father asked, his eyes darting at them.

‘To the Crossways.’

‘Nonsense,’ he snapped. ‘There is no such place.’

‘Yes, there is,’ said Olga patiently, ‘in the middle of the forest. You can find it by following the full moon.’

‘The full moon!’ he echoed scornfully. ‘I know every inch of the forest and I tell you there isn’t any Crossways.’

‘Please, please don’t be angry,’ Olga begged him. ‘Let Peter and me go, if you don’t believe us.’

‘Let you go,’ he said, ‘and lose you too? Haven’t I told you that the forest is dangerous? Do you want to send me mad? Sit still and don’t stir from here till I come back.’

He went out and they heard him calling ‘Cindra! Cindra!’ until his voice died away.

‘There’s only one thing to do,’ said Olga. ‘We must find her and bring her back.’

‘But what about the bears and the wild boars?’ said Peter.

‘Oh, I shouldn’t worry about them,’ said Olga. ‘I’d much rather you went with me, of course, but if you’re afraid I’ll go alone.’

This made Peter feel much braver and they started off. They met with no difficulty in finding the way, for the moon made a pathway through the leafless trees; and at first they were not at all frightened, for when they looked back they could still see the light in the cottage windows. They walked hand in hand and their feet made a pleasant rustling on the fallen leaves.

‘Will she be pleased to see us?’ Peter asked.

‘Of course she will, we’re her children,’ Olga answered.

‘But suppose we don’t find her at the Crossways?’

‘Then we must go on until we do find her. The signpost will say which way she went.’

Whiter and whiter grew the moon as it swung into the heavens, and colder grew the air.

‘I don’t think I can go on much longer, Olga,’ Peter said.

‘You can if you try.’

It was then that they saw the bear. It was walking on all fours when they saw it, but when it saw them it stood up.

‘Oh, it’s going to hug us!’ Peter cried.

‘Nonsense,’ said Olga, but her voice trembled. ‘Perhaps it’ll give you a scar like the one Daddy has,’ she added, hoping to encourage him.

‘I don’t want a scar now,’ sobbed Peter.

‘All right,’ said Olga. ‘I shall just tell it why we’ve come.’

She went up to the bear and explained that they were looking for their mother, and the bear seemed satisfied, for after swaying a little on its feet and shaking its head, it got on to all fours again and shambled off.

After this escape they both felt very much better, and as if nothing could now go wrong. And suddenly they found that they were not walking on a path any longer, but on a road, a smooth straight road that led right out of the forest. On either side the trees seemed to fall back, and they were standing on the edge of a great circular plain which the moon overhead made almost as bright as day.

‘Now we shall soon see her,’ Olga said. But it wasn’t quite so easy as she thought, for the plain was dotted with small, dark bushes any one of which might have been a human being; and Peter kept calling out, ‘Look, there she is!’ until Olga grew impatient.

They saw the Crossways long before they came to it. It was shaped like a star-fish, only a star-fish with fifty points instead of five; and the place where they met was like white sand that has been kicked up by the feet of many horses.