Following this for some distance, along a winding way, they came upon no house or building that would afford them refuge for the night.

It became so dark that they could scarcely see their way, and finally Trot stopped and suggested that they camp under a tree.
"All right," said Button-Bright, "I've often found that leaves make a good warm blanket.

But--look there, Trot!--isn't that a light flashing over yonder ?" "It certainly is, Button-Bright.

Let's go over and see if it's a house.
Whoever lives there couldn't treat us worse than the King did." To reach the light they had to leave the road, so they stumbled over hillocks and brushwood, hand in hand, keeping the tiny speck of light always in sight.
They were rather forlorn little waifs, outcasts in a strange country and forsaken by their only friend and guardian, Cap'n Bill.

So they were very glad when finally they reached a small cottage and, looking in through its one window, saw Pon, the gardener's boy, sitting by a fire of twigs.
As Trot opened the door and walked boldly in, Pon sprang up to greet them.