“And we have killed her,’’ Nibs said hoarsely.
They all whipped off their caps.
“Now I see,” Curly said; “Peter was bringing her to us.” He threw himself sorrowfully on the ground.
“A lady to take care of us at last,” said one of the twins, “and you have killed her!”
They were sorry for him, but sorrier for themselves, and when he took a step nearer them they turned from him.
Tootles’ face was very white, but there was a dignity about him now that had never been there before.
“I did it,” he said, reflecting. “When ladies used to come to me in dreams, I said, ‘Pretty mother, pretty mother.’ But when at last she really came, I shot her.”
He moved slowly away.
“Don’t go,” they called in pity.
“I must,” he answered, shaking; “I am so afraid of Peter.”
It was at this tragic moment that they heard a sound which made the heart of every one of them rise to his mouth. They heard Peter crow.
