She said good-night at once, and ran for home.

Now she could not reach home without passing the pot, and just as she passed the pot, she saw the last sparkle of the sun as he went down." "I should think she ran!" remarked our mouthpiece, Allister.
"She did run," said Kirsty, "and had just got past the awful black pot, which was terrible enough day or night without such a beast in it, when--" "But there _was_ the beast in it," said Allister.
"When," Kirsty went on without heeding him, "she heard a great _whish_ of water behind her.

That was the water tumbling off the beast's back as he came up from the bottom.

If she ran before, she flew now.

And the worst of it was that she couldn't hear him behind her, so as to tell whereabouts he was.