While she slept she had a dream. She dreamt that the Neverland had come too near and that a strange boy came from it.
While Mrs. Darling was dreaming, she heard a wee noise outside the window, as a tiny figure, no bigger than a little boy, tried the window-latch. The window of the nursery blew open, and the boy dropped on the floor. He was accompanied by a strange light. She opened her eyes, and saw the boy, and she knew at once that he was Peter Pan. He was a lovely boy, clad in skeleton leaves[7]. When he saw she was a grown-up, he gnashed his white teeth at her.
Mrs. Darling screamed, and, as if[8] in answer to a bell, the door opened, and Nana entered. She growled and sprang at the boy, who leapt through the window. Again Mrs. Darling screamed, and she ran down into the street to look for his little body, but it was not there; and she looked up, and in the black night she could see a shooting star[9].
She returned to the nursery, and found Nana with something in her mouth. It was the boy’s shadow. As he leapt at the window Nana closed it quickly, too late to catch him, but his shadow had no time to get out.
Mrs. Darling examined the shadow carefully. She folded it and put it away. Mrs. Darling decided to show it to Mr. Darling.
Something strange happened a week later, on Friday.
“I won’t go to bed,” shouted Michael, “I won’t, I won’t. Nana, it isn’t six o’clock yet. Oh dear, oh dear, I shan’t love you any more, Nana. I tell you, I won’t, I won’t!”
Then Mrs. Darling came in, wearing her white evening-gown. She was wearing Wendy’s bracelet on her arm; Wendy loved to lend her bracelet to her mother.
John and Wendy were playing at their favourite game of being Father and Mother[10]. Then Mr. Darling appeared. Mr. Darling was very much excited because he could not fasten his evening tie (evening ties are difficult things to fasten, you know). Mrs. Darling easily managed that for him. She decided to tell him about the boy. At first he smiled, but he became thoughtful when she showed him the shadow.
“It is nobody I know,” he said, examining it carefully, “but it does look a scoundrel.”
“We were still discussing it, you remember,” says Mr. Darling, “when Nana came in with Michael’s medicine. You will never carry the bottle in your mouth again, Nana, and it is all my fault.”