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Updated: May 17, 2025
Who could have poisoned it?" "Hook." "Don't be silly. How could Hook have got down here?" Alas, Tinker Bell could not explain this, for even she did not know the dark secret of Slightly's tree. Nevertheless Hook's words had left no room for doubt. The cup was poisoned. "Besides," said Peter, quite believing himself "I never fell asleep." He raised the cup.
If his rage had broken him into a hundred pieces every one of them would have disregarded the incident, and leapt at the sleeper. Though a light from the one lamp shone dimly on the bed Hook stood in darkness himself, and at the first stealthy step forward he discovered an obstacle, the door of Slightly's tree. It did not entirely fill the aperture, and he had been looking over it.
The first thing he did on finding himself alone in the fast falling night was to tiptoe to Slightly's tree, and make sure that it provided him with a passage. Then for long he remained brooding; his hat of ill omen on the sward, so that any gentle breeze which had arisen might play refreshingly through his hair. Dark as were his thoughts his blue eyes were as soft as the periwinkle.
All went well until Slightly's turn came, when he was found to be like those irritating parcels that use up all the string in going round and leave no tags with which to tie a knot. His lip was curled with malicious triumph.
If his rage had broken him into a hundred pieces every one of them would have disregarded the incident, and leapt at the sleeper. Though a light from the one lamp shone dimly on the bed, Hook stood in darkness himself, and at the first stealthy step forward he discovered an obstacle, the door of Slightly's tree. It did not entirely fill the aperture, and he had been looking over it.
Intently he listened for any sound from the nether world, but all was as silent below as above; the house under the ground seemed to be but one more empty tenement in the void. Was that boy asleep, or did he stand waiting at the foot of Slightly's tree, with his dagger in his hand? There was no way of knowing, save by going down.
No answer. He was thrilled, and he loved being thrilled. In two strides he reached his door. Unlike Slightly's door it filled the aperture, so that he could not see beyond it, nor could the one knocking see him. 'I won't open unless you speak, Peter cried. Then at last the visitor spoke, in a lovely bell-like voice. 'Let me in, Peter. It was Tink, and quickly he unbarred to her.
Intently he listened for any sound from the nether world, but all was as silent below as above; the house under the ground seemed to be but one more empty tenement in the void. Was that boy asleep, or did he stand waiting at the foot of Slightly's tree, with his dagger in his hand? There was no way of knowing, save by going down.
'Poisoned? Who could have poisoned it? 'Hook. 'Don't be silly. How could Hook have got down here? Alas, Tinker Bell could not explain this, for even she did not know the dark secret of Slightly's tree. Nevertheless Hook's words had left no room for doubt. The cup was poisoned. 'Besides, said Peter, quite believing himself, 'I never fell asleep. He raised the cup.
The first thing he did on finding himself alone in the fast falling night was to tiptoe to Slightly's tree, and make sure that it provided him with a passage. Then for long he remained brooding; his hat of ill omen on the sward, so that a gentle breeze which had arisen might play refreshingly through his hair. Dark as were his thoughts his blue eyes were as soft as the periwinkle.
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