Chapter Four

The next morning they had bacon and scrambled egg for breakfast. Spiller and Burgonet rearranged the storerooms for Arista and packed up the tea, a small onion, a small jar full of jelly and some baking powder that they were sending back to Little Fordham with Arrietty for her parents.

"What kind of jelly is this?" Arrietty asked. It was an amber color and something that she had never seen before.

"Maple syrup jelly," Burgonet told her. "Arista's own make. It was worth marrying her just for that."

"Oh, get on with you," Arista told him. She looked at Arrietty and smiled, though. "It is very good jelly, though. Spiller taps the trees for me in the spring and brings me the sap. I boil it down to syrup and make the jelly."

Arrietty and Arista baked some bread together, and while it was rising, Arrietty helped Arista hem a dress she was making. It was much easier for Arista to stand on a bottle cap while Arrietty went around and marked the hem.

"Burgonet never gets it even," Arista told Arrietty. "He just doesn't have the knack for working with material."

"I heard that," Burgonet called. "If you wanted a tailor you should have kept walking until you found one."

"I was too tired by then," Arista called back, and they all laughed. After dinner, which included some of the bread with some of the jelly, which was just as good as Burgonet had said it was, it was getting toward dusk. Spiller and Burgonet slipped out of the house and took everything down to the river and loaded Spiller's boat. Spiller didn't like the look of the sky. It looked like it might rain, and he didn't like to travel down the river in a heavy rain. He hoped it would just be a light sprinkle, if it did come down, but he didn't think so by the looks of it. He mentioned it to Burgonet, who looked up at the sky and shrugged.

"If you have to pull in somewhere, just do. And if the boat gets wet be careful, especially getting in and out. Never step all the way out until you're tied up good and proper on both ends," Burgonet warned his friend as they set the cargo under the canopy, stacking the more perishable things higher than the things that could survive a bit of water. Spiller had a piece of thin wood under there, which sat on top of the cutlery compartments, to keep the cargo under the canopy out of any water that might come into the boat, but that wouldn't withstand a strong rain, which Burgonet knew as well as he did. "You take too many chances when you're tired. You have to watch out for yourself and Arrietty, too, now."

Spiller frowned. "Am not taking any chances, and don't want Arrietty to get hurt. You sound like her father now, or like we're already married. We're not, and not likely to be anytime soon. She's not even seventeen until June. She should at least be old enough to put her hair up and her skirts down and stop wearing pinafores before she gets married!"

Burgonet blushed a bit. "Sorry, mate, but I like her. Arista likes her, and we like you both together. Bring her by again sometime, no matter what."

"I'll think about it," Spiller said with a sigh, "if you'll quit taking things so seriously at least for awhile."

"You're serious about her and don't tell me you're not," Burgonet said with a snort. "You looked half dead while she was in that attic, and if you're bringing her out on the river with you, you must be sure she's the right one for you."

"I missed her like mad, and like her fine," Spiller retorted, "but settle down right now, I won't. I can't. She's too young and has too much to learn about the outdoors. This was a right good experiment but the results aren't in yet."

Arista hugged Spiller goodbye when it was time for him to leave. "Don't stay away too long, you love birds." He rolled his eyes at that.

Then she hugged Arrietty. "Come back soon. I hope Spiller brings you back next time he comes." She pressed something into her hands, and Arrietty smelled the warm, fresh smell of the bread they had made. Arista had given her one of the loaves. "Take this with you. It will be good with the jam I gave you."

"I'd like to come back," Arrietty said, her cheeks reddening, "maybe when the shoes are done. We'll see."

Burgonet hugged her, too, and he and Arista followed them down the passage, and watched them disappear into the long grass outside the vicarage. Spiller turned and raised his hand one last time before they got out of sight.

When they got to the side of the boat, Arrietty took off her shoes and stockings as always, finding movement in a boat easier with bare feet and putting her on an even field with Spiller. He helped Arrietty in, then climbed in himself and when she was settled by the cargo he got ready to push off. "All set?"

Arrietty nodded. "Thank you for taking me to meet Arista and Burgonet.. I had a lovely time, but I am ready to go home." She settled down against the lumpy packages of sugar and tea. "They are ever so nice, aren't they?"

"Yes," said Spiller, "they are. Sorry they got so wrapped up in us as a pair, though. Was getting embarrassing."

Arrietty looked at him thoughtfully. "I was surprised that you had told them so much about me. And I think it's sweet that you missed me so much when I was gone. That's what they remembered, Spiller, and I wasn't embarrassed, just surprised. I guess because they're older, and happy, they want everyone to be as happy as they are. That's all."

Spiller considered this, as they slid down the river on the dark water. "I think they just want someone like them to play with. They are happy, yes, but also lonely at times. I knew they'd like having someone new to talk to but I didn't know they'd take it so seriously."

He was totally ignoring what she had said about how he had regaled them with stories of the nice girl he'd met, and how he's gone to them several times for comfort when he'd lost her. He knew that wasn't fair, but he did think Arista and Burgonet wanted to know another young married couple their age.

"Spiller, I like being with you. I liked being on this trip with you. I want to be with you all the time, but I know I can't. I know it's too soon. But I hope someday…maybe."

"I hope so, too," said Spiller. "For now, though, just wrap up in the quilt and rest. I have to keep an eye on the river and the sky. It looks like rain. If it rains hard, we might have to pull in for a bit."

Arrietty looked at the gray clouds scuttling above them in the wind, and nodded. "I'll do whatever you say," she said.

Taking his butter knife, Spiller pushed off. Arietty watched him standing in the bow, but the rolling river soon put her to sleep. She dreamed that she was in a room, alone, and someone was knocking, but she couldn't find a door, and when she called, no one answered.

Then she heard Spiller's voice calling frantically, "Ari! Ari! Wake up," and she was awake and he was not part of her dream. He was real, and the sound she was hearing was big, fat raindrops falling on the canopy over her head. There were already puddles of water that had blown into bow of the boat.

Spiller was trying to push the boat under a hollow log sticking out from the shore. It was cracked at an angle so that one edge, the top of the log jutted out, making a fair roof over their heads. He had maneuvered the bow of the boat under the top of the log and had the bow pushed up slightly on the inside of the bottom, but had to find a way to keep it there. A good wave could knock them off their precarious perch and send them back out into the storm. Inside the log just ahead of where he had pulled up, where the bottom was still whole, it was rough, and he thought if he could just attach the boat more securely to that, they could ride out the storm under the roof, provided the water didn't rise too high.

"A grapnel" he shouted.

He had one of these on each side of the boat under the canopy, made of large safety pins, with a piece of twine attached. If he could hook the pins into the bottom of the log that would probably hold them more securely but he didn't know how he was going to do that and still hold the boat in place. He would probably only have a split second to throw once he let go of the butter knife that he was using for a punt pole before the current swept them back off their perch and out from under the overhang of the log back into the storm.

Arrietty snatched up the pin and the coil of twine and came toward him but she did not attempt to hand it to him. Gathering the coil of rope in left hand, she came up behind his right shoulder and tossed the pin exactly where Spiller would have if he'd had his hands free. It caught exactly as he had hoped it would.

"The other side," he gasped. "Hurry. I can't hold it for long."

She ran back and snatched the other pin and threw it the same way, aiming for the left side of the log. This time she missed. Grim faced she drew it back in and tried again. It held. The two pins were buried in the log and Arrietty and Spiller drew in the twine just enough to keep the boat back far enough that it was both hidden and safe under the jutting edge, out of the rain.

Once they were fairly sure they were well settled, they began to bail the water out of the bottom of the bow. Spiller knew every inch of this river and every spot that might be shelter. He'd gotten them under before too much had come in, but he had gotten soaked in the process. Once they had the boat cared for Arrietty turned to him.

"Give me your vest. I'll prop the crochet hook up and hang it to dry. Then you can get under the quilt. You're soaking wet and you'll freeze if you don't."

He handed it to her silently, and went back and sat under the canopy on the little wooden platform next to the cargo for a few minutes, trying to drip off a bit so that the quilt didn't get totally soaked from his wet hair and trousers. To his surprise Arrietty hung up her dress when she hung up his vest, and came back in her under vest and petticoat. "Those things should dry pretty well there."

She sat down beside him and he tossed the quilt around her shoulder and then drew her close to his side. "Crikey good throwing that was. Better than I could've done meself. You knew right what I wanted without me even saying," Spiller said admiringly.

Arrietty shrugged. "We had one of those in the balloon we made to escape the attic, remember? Ours was different…it was double sided, but I know what they are. Once you called to me it was pretty easy to see what you were going to do." He was no longer cold, in fact he felt very warm beside her. She snuggled up to his side and was as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. "We can't leave until it stops, can we?"

"Probably shouldn't try to," Spiller said. "Don't want the boat to get flooded out. And if it doesn't stop until morning we'll be stuck for the day. Don't want to be out on this stretch of river when it's broad daylight. Human foot paths on both sides, there are, and several bridges that they go back and forth on all day. We're probably stuck until tomorrow dusk."

"I don't mind," said Arrietty. "You probably need the rest anyway, the way you were fighting with the knife. It amazes me how you do that." She looked up at him, her head tilted, and was so cute that Spiller couldn't resist. He leaned in and kissed her. His hands were warm on her skin but his cheek was rough.

He shaves, she thought, wondering why she had never noticed it before. She kissed him back, and they kept kissing for a few minutes, until a crack of thunder and flash of lighting somewhere down the river startled them.

He turned then and started shoving the cargo around on the wood, until it was all to one side of the knife box handle, leaving the other side for them to lie down on. "That's a good idea…to get some sleep. Need some sleep for sure," he said sheepishly. They both lay down, with Arrietty still against his side, and maneuvered the quilt over themselves.

As he looked up at the canopy over their heads, and felt her head settle down against his collarbone, he said softly, "We make a good team at that, Ari."

"Oh, goodnight," she said, rolling over embarrassed and turning her back to him. He grinned and turned toward her, putting his arm around her waist and tucking his knees behind hers. She allowed this, and it was the sound of her even breathing that finally put him to sleep, not the now more gentle patter of the rain.

When Arrietty woke up, Spiller was still sleeping soundly. His smile, which seemed so mocking, so teasing, when he was awake made him look like a little boy when he was asleep, even with the slight stubble on his cheeks. She smiled looking at him. She eased away from him hoping not to wake him. He was lying on his back and she had been curled up at his side holding his arm with her head on his shoulder.

Why do I never wake him up when I get up? She wondered about this for a moment, knowing how usually he was so aware of every little thing. She decided it must be because he was so comfortable with her and that thought made her happy.

She got up and found a steady drip coming from the trees over the front of the log, but the rain had stopped. She caught enough drips to wash her face and hands. Then she dressed herself and checked the boat's moorings. The pins had held and she felt very proud of herself. She quietly edged around the other side of the boat and dug out the jelly Arista had given her, and the loaf of bread. That, plus water, would have to be breakfast.

As she was replacing the bags after digging out the food Spiller opened his eyes. "Morning," he said. "Is it a good one?"

"The rain has stopped and the pins are still holding," Arrietty answered, "and we've got bread and jelly for breakfast."

"Sounds like a good one to me," he said, sitting up and stretching.

He fiddled with the bags for a moment. When he went across the boat to where the bow was pushed up on the log, he glanced back and with her cheeks reddening, she realized that he must need private time. She busied herself rearranging, glad that she had been able to handle her own morning routine while he was still asleep. When he came back he was cleaner than usual, and his face was smooth again. He tucked whatever it was that he used for a razor back into the bag quickly.

"Have you ever thought of growing a beard?" Arrietty blurted out.

Spiller looked up startled. "No. Should I have?"

She considered this and shook her head. "I wish you wouldn't. Mother was always so glad that Papa didn't want one. Uncle Hendreary always had one but she never understood why he wanted it. She said it was pretty straggly at times and when I met him I knew exactly what she was talking about. When he met me again at the cottage, he hadn't seen me since I was little. He kissed my cheek and it was scratchy."

Spiller grinned and putting one hand on the knife box handle, leaned around and put the other behind her neck, drawing her in for a kiss. "And I'm not?" he murmured.

"No," said Arrietty softly. They were so close she could feel him breathing.

"Then that's settled," he said, kissing her again. "Now what about the bread and jelly?"

As they ate, she asked him about how maple trees were tapped. He laughed, pleased by her keen curiosity. "That's something most just don't do in Britain," he said, "but the old man who owned the house where I grew up had been born in the Scottish Highlands. His family used to tap sycamore maples there in the spring, and did get sap. He tried it here as well. Me dad had heard him tell about it. When I was a tot, he decided to try to figure out how it was done. We watched the humans until we got it down. Course for a long time we just borrowed the sap from them. The old man said the sycamore maples didn't produce nearly as much as the Americans and Canadians get out of their sugar maples but it was possible to get some. You just can't use ornamental maples. Nasty milky sap those have."

"But how do you get it out?" Arrietty wondered.

Spiller spread some of the jelly on another piece of bread. "Sap flows when daytime temperatures are above freezing and nighttime temperatures are below. So it has to be in the spring. The bigger the tree, the more taps you can make, as long as they ain't in the same places you've tapped in years before. The height of the tap hole the old man used was high as far as borrowers go. Three feet, maybe. You have to drill a hole and put in a spile. That's a sort of pipe for the sap to come out and you have to have something to catch it. Humans use buckets. I use whatever I can get."

"How long does it take?" Arrietty asked, as he munched his bread.

"Oh, it depends. Some days you only get a bit. Other days your buckets will overflow if you don't mind them and get them emptied in time. We used to like it when that happened to the humans because we could just borrow the extra. Looks like water when it comes out, it does. To make the syrup you have to boil the excess water from the sap. It takes 40 parts maple sap to make one part maple syrup. It steams a lot so you have to boil outdoors. I can boil it in my stove since I have good ventilation in there, but me dad remembered a day the old man tried to do it in the kitchen of the big house and it peeled the paint right off the walls." Spiller finished his food and shifted around to the back of the boat and dangled his feet off the edge into the water.

Arrietty laughed. "Arista came up with the idea to make jelly?"

Spiller nodded. "She did and I was glad when she did. Syrup's as good as honey for sweetening but the jelly was a bonus." He brushed off his hands, and then looked out the stern of the boat. "Pretty day this is. Wish we could travel but it's too risky. The humans will be out for sure enjoying the spring. We'll have to wait for night."

"I hope Papa isn't worried about me," Arrietty said, putting the lid back on the jelly jar and leaning over the side of the boat to wash the sticky syrup off her hands.

"I didn't give him no timetable," Spiller said defensively. "Never do. Never know how long anything will take on the river. Too many variables."

"I'm sure he knows we couldn't travel last night with all that rain. When we were in the boot and then in the kettle, we watched for you, but we knew the rain would throw you off." She settled down beside him, with her feet in the water, too.

"I miss that kettle," Spiller said. "Knew right away when it turned up missing what had happened. That was a big storm."

"I was never so glad to see anyone, as I was to see you that day. I was really worried. You saved our lives, but then you've saved our lives so many times. I owe you so much that I can never repay."

"Never wanted you to try," Spiller said firmly.

She looked out at the river and the green bank on the other side, which was dotted with flowers. A butterfly flew right past their log and they could feel the warmth of the sun starting to steam some of the water off the log. It was all so lovely that Arietty burst into tears.

Spiller looked startled. "Ari, whatever is the matter?" he asked, putting his arm around her shoulders as she cried into her hands.

"It's so beautiful on the river today," she blubbered, "and I know when I get to the mill, I'm going to be back under the floor where I'll hardly ever see it. You don't know what it's like growing up under a floor, with nothing around you but passages and gates, with no one to talk to and no one to play with. If I hadn't had my grating, so I could at least see a bit of the sky I don't know what I would have done but even that made me sad sometimes. It was like being in a prison. It was like that in the cottage, too. Being inside the wall in those two rooms Aunt Lupy gave us was no better than being under the floor. Nothing but shadows and lath and plaster all around. All that dust and darkness, and wood shavings in the hall. That's why I used to go down and talk to Tom."

"I can see where sharing a wall with Lupy and Hendreary might wear on you," Spiller admitted. "They gets on me nerves after a bit, too."

Arrietty sat up a bit, wiping her cheeks with the hem of her pinafore. "I liked seeing the cousins. I liked meeting them after hearing so much about them and Timmis was sweet. My mother certainly loved seeing Uncle Hendreary again. He's the only family she's got left but she and Lupy never got along. Mother thinks Lupy's stuck up and Lupy thinks she's better than my mother because we lived under the kitchen in the old house and she and her first husband lived the drawing room. He was a Harpsichord. Lupy was born a Rain-Pipe but after she married Harpsichord she took on airs. Then he died and she married my Uncle Hendreary, but mother never could understand why he wanted to marry her. I think I know, though."

"What do you think?" Spiller asked, curious.

"He was a widower, and she was a widow, and he probably thought that they could help each other with their children, but it must not have worked out very well. Eggletina ran away, you see, and for a long time they thought she'd been eaten by the cat. That's why they emigrated. He'd been seen and the humans got in a cat."

Arietty frowned, remembering. "They hadn't talked to Eggletina about him being seen or about cats. They had tried to make their children believe there wasn't anything except what was under the floor. Mother and Papa thought it was a foolish way to bring up children. They thought Eggletina just figured out that there was something else out there and had gone exploring but I'm not so sure."

"What do you think it was then," Spiller asked gently, reaching out and smoothing her hair back from her face.

"I think she was like me, just tired of the same thing day in and day out. She's back in the dark now, but at least she got out for awhile and got to see what the world was like."

Spiller shook his head, and looked out over the water. It was getting on afternoon. The leaves on the trees above the log were casting pretty pattern of shade on the water, and a bumblebee was flying past. "I didn't know about the cat," he admitted, "but I knew Eggletina had run off as a child. Lupy used to throw it up to her now and again when Eggletina got too dreamy. I think they found her living outside when they left the house. I'm not sure where she was living but I don't think she even saw a cat. I think that must be what makes her dreamy, the getting out and then coming back in."

"I can see Aunt Lupy doing that, "Arrietty admitted, "Although she didn't do it when we were there. We always talked about other things. Papa was making them all new shoes, you see, and of an evening we used to come downstairs for a little while. The grownups would talk about the old days under the house mostly but sometimes they would talk about other things, too. Every time someone mentioned you, I wanted to cry. Sometimes I did, just went upstairs and cried. Thinking of you made me think of the river, and hedgerows, and early morning dew."

He grinned at that. "And here I thought you was missing me for meself."

"Oh, Spiller, I did miss you," Arrietty said, throwing her arms around his neck and clinging tight, "but part of you is the way you live. It makes you who you are, don't you see? And I will miss that, too, when we're at the mill and back under the floor again. There'll be no sunshine, no flowers, no bark or grasses. It'll just be another prison."

He patted her back. "I can bring you all the flowers you want and won't we be nipping out onto the river whenever we please? Didn't I promise to take you back to see Arista and Burgonet? We can visit Lupy and Hendreary, too, so that they know you're alive, as long as we don't stay too long, and we'll go back to Little Fordham. You know I promised you that and I try to keep my promises."

She drew back and looked into his solemn black eyes. "Oh, please do. I so love Little Fordham. It's the most perfect place on earth. I've never been happier than the summer we spent there, although I was nearly that happy in the boot. I had outdoors and indoors, and all the people I loved together and I really was happy."

His mouth twitched into one of his teasing smiles. "You counting me in that?"

"Of course!" Arrietty exclaimed, and then she kissed him.

They kept kissing for awhile, and hugging, and then started touching, and it felt very right to both of them. She was enjoying it quite a bit, being much more used to kissing by that point. His skin was so warm under her hands. She liked putting them on his broadening shoulders and pulling him close to her, and she liked running her hands over his chest. It was mostly smooth, only slightly furred in the center, and from there she could run her hands around his back and pull him even closer still.

As for enjoying it, so was he. He had to be content running his hands over her clothes, since she had so many more of them than he did. He didn't know how to get through them and wasn't sure what she would do if he even tried. Her shape fascinated him, though. He was mostly angles, hard bone and muscle, but she was all softness and curves. Exploring those curves was a treat, but after awhile, he pulled back.

"Oh, Ari!" Spiller said in a frustrated tone of voice, and tossed himself right out of the boat into the river.

"Spiller, what in the world are you doing?" Arrietty cried, leaning over when his head popped back up.

He tilted his face back, sprayed out a long arc of water from his mouth, and said shortly, "taking a bath in the river."

"But it must be freezing cold!" Arrietty exclaimed.

"I knew that," he said, looking up at her, smirking, "but it seemed like the easiest way to cool down. You drive me mad, sometimes, know that? I don't think your father would've been very happy if he'd come along just now."

"Oh, it wasn't that bad," Arrietty said crossly. "Not that bad, no."

"Besides," Spiller said, still smirking, as he floated over in front of her, "you're always telling me I'm filthy. Was the first thing you ever said to me."

"The first thing I ever said to you was I asked you your name," Arrietty pointed out, straightening up and tucking her skirts modestly around her legs.

"And then you said I was filthy," he pointed out, swimming up to the side of the boat, and pulling himself up.

"Mmm, yes, I guess I did," Arrietty admitted, and then she shrieked with laughter, throwing her hands up in front of her face as he shook his head like a wet dog.

And they both lay down in the back of the boat in the patch of sunshine that had crept under the log, hands folded behind their heads, and looked out at the river, thinking hard about the past, and how it always led to the future.

"Remember when we came up to that hole in the bank and your mother saw me?" Spiller asked, Arrietty.

"She didn't see you, not at first. That was the problem. You blend into the background and hold so still. I know why you do it, and I'm used to it now, but she wasn't used to it then. It was like you'd popped up out of the ground, and she wasn't used to the idea of borrowers living outdoors, either. The way you live was her worst nightmare at that point."

"She changed her tune pretty quick," Spiller acknowledged. "Called me a dirty, naughty, unwashed boy one day and a hero the next."

"You're both, really," Arrietty laughed. "You know that, don't you?"

"I can be anything you want me to be, Ari. At least I'll try to be," Spiller answered. He was getting dry, and the sun was warm and comfortable, and the lapping of the water against the back of the boat was very soothing. As he nodded off, Arietty looked at him with tears in her eyes again.

I know you will, she thought to herself, and it's all I want. She eased over beside him and snuggled in at his side. She didn't understand what it was that was making her so emotional around Spiller. She thought she loved him, but she'd been told so many times that she was too young to know what love was, too young to be making those kind of decisions about her future, that it made her doubt herself. She certainly couldn't really just say to him that she loved him, and she instinctively knew he wasn't ready to say it, either, but she was beginning to believe that she did, and that he did, and that caused so many feelings inside her that she had to let them out somehow. It seemed to be easiest with tears.

Spiller woke up from their nap first, and smiled when he saw Arrietty curled up beside him. He leaned in and lightly kissed her forehead.

She opened her eyes and saw his black ones, quite close to hers. "Hello."

"Hello," he said back. "It's getting toward evening. Want to finish the rest of that bread for dinner, before we set out again?"

She sat up and yawned. "I guess so." She looked out over the water and saw how low the sun was. "We slept a long time. It's nice sometimes to just relax and do nothing."

"When I first met you, I didn't understand why you like to play so much," Spiller admitted. "Didn't know what it meant to you, seeing all of those outside things for the first time. I stopped enjoying the way it looks outside long ago. You kind of gave that back to me, Ari. I appreciate days like this more when I'm with you. Some days I'm working so hard just to live I forget what it's like to take some time to do nothing. Before I met you I never relaxed, or played. I do think it's possible to play too much, but I'm starting to understand what it's like to just have fun."

"I always have fun with you, Spiller. Even when things get scary, I'm not really afraid because I feel safe with you. It's an adventure, being with you but I like it."

She scooted back and got the bread and jelly back out. "I'm glad we had this along. What would we have done without it?"

"I'd have gone fishing or hunting, I suppose," Spiller answered. "I usually do have food along, but in the spring it's easy to find things. There's bird's eggs, and plenty of greens in the spring if nothing else."

Arrietty shuddered as she sliced bread. "I got so sick of greens when we were living in the field before we found you. Strawberries, blackberries, nuts and watercress…we didn't have anything else for days." She handed him a piece of bread slathered with jelly.

"Your whole lot was certainly glad to have some meat again," said Spiller slyly. "Forgave me for killing that mouse pretty quick at that point."

Arrietty started. "You told me that wasn't mouse!"

"It weren't," he said. "I'm just teasing you." He looked out at the river as he ate his bread. "Nearly there," he said. "Little Fordham's only a couple of hours away. As soon as we eat we can set off."

"Shouldn't we wait until dark?" Arrietty asked, as the boat gently rocked under her. She was getting used to living on the boat and had a feeling she would almost miss it when they got back to the village.

"No," Spiller said, "it will probably be all right to head out soon. No one fishes this late in the day except poachers, and I hadn't seen no gypsies for awhile before we left. They usually stay further down river anyway, by the spinney, not this close to the town and most of the other humans will be heading to their own homes by now. We just look like a piece of wood in the water anyway."

They finished the loaf of bread, and looked sadly at the jelly jar, which was half empty. Arrietty wiped it off, and washed her sticky hands as Spiller walked to the front of the boat. He actually stepped out of it, into the log, to check the pins, and Arrietty gasped, holding her hands to her face.

"Be careful," she admonished him. "What if it comes off and I take off without you? I don't know what I would do if that happened."

"That won't happen," he said confidently. "Look here. I have to get this one pin out. It's at an angle. The other one I can pop off with me butter knife. Just get ready for the jolt." He loosened the one pin, and the boat swung free on that side, coming up hard against the other side of the log. He jumped back in and reached for the butter knife as Arrietty carefully wound up the twine and replaced the first pin under the canopy. He popped off the second pin and the boat rocked again. With one hard push, they were coming out from under the log and spinning slightly, they headed out to the middle of the river. As he steered, she carefully wound up the other pin. It was bent slightly, but she didn't think it was too bad. She went back and sat down.

"You did that very, very, well," she told him.

He glanced back. "It was tricky and not what I'd do normally. You should never get out of a flat boat like this, Ari, unless it's fastened in two places. We were up a bit on the log, and I still had the one pin, so I was all right, but if it has just been one pin, I wouldn't. All you need is a little movement in the water and you can fall down if you're only tied up or clipped on in one place."

"I'll remember that," she said solemnly.

She enjoyed watching the river at nightfall. The last of the setting sun, and the rising moon were both so beautiful, and once night fell, the moonlight on the water cast shimmering shadows. She was almost sad when Spiller guided them out of the river and into the small stream that ran behind Little Fordham. She knew Ballyhoggin was there somewhere behind the rushes and she shuddered, remembering how she and her parents had been carted there in a cardboard box, frightened out of their wits.

They pulled up next to Mr. Pott's fence finally and Arietty helped Spiller moor both ends of the both to keep it still as they climbed out He had a regular place for his boat and she knew where it was and how he usually did it. She had met him down at the river so many times the year before, always glad to see him because she had been lonely without him. That was one of the reasons she had begun to talk to Miss Menzies. They unloaded, but they only carried their own gear up the bank.

"Pod can come and help with the cargo," Spiller told Arrietty, as he swung his quilt over his shoulder. She nodded. The village was peaceful in the moonlight. As they came up to Vine Cottage, Spiller frowned. It's dark, and there's no smoke coming out of the chimney. Thought your dad would be waiting up to see if we'd come in. It ain't that late. Think they're asleep already?"

Arrietty sighed, and shifted her bag from one shoulder to the other. "I doubt it. Papa's probably nervous again about being seen. That's probably why Mother has the fire out. He was already worrying about it before we left, remember?"

When they got to the front door it was not locked. Spiller pushed it open and they went inside. It was dark and no one came to greet them even when they called. There was no fire on the hearth and none of Pod or Homily's possessions were about.

Arietty dropped her bag and ran upstairs looking through the bedrooms, then ran back down the stairs. "There's nothing here! Papa's shoemaking equipment is gone. No tools, none of the blankets Mother made, none of her sewing things, either. There's no food. Where are they? Oh, Spiller, what if Mabel and Sidney got them back?"

She hurled herself into his arms, but as he wrapped his arm around her, he shook his head. "That lot wouldn't have taken all of Pod and Homily's things and left all the stuff that belongs to the house. They'd have taken nothing like they did before or they would have taken everything. They haven't been took, Ari. They've left," Spiller said grimly. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

"But where would they go without me?" She asked, stricken. "I don't want to be all alone!"

"You're not alone, Ari. You're with me," Spiller said firmly, but his mind was racing. He had no idea what had happened to Homily and Pod, and if they were missing, or course he had to stay with Arrietty, and he would, but he hoped they could be found. He was not quite that ready to start a life with her and if he were forced to be, he wasn't sure if it would end well.