When he reached the village it was night and very dark. A storm had come on, and as the rain was coming down in torrents he went straight to the Fairy's house, resolved to knock at the door, and hoping to be let in.
But when he was there his courage failed him, and instead of knocking he ran away some twenty paces. He returned to the door a second time, but could not make up his mind; he came back a third time, still he dared not; the fourth time he laid hold of the knocker and, trembling, gave a little knock.
He waited and waited. At last, after half an hour had passed, a window on the top floor was opened—the house was four stories high—and Pinocchio saw a big Snail with a lighted candle on her head looking out. She called to him:
'Who is there at this hour?'
'Is the Fairy at home?' asked the puppet.
'The Fairy is asleep and must not be awakened; but who are you?'
'It is I!'
'Who is I?'
'Pinocchio.'
'And who is Pinocchio?'
'The puppet who lives in the Fairy's house.'
'Ah, I understand!' said the Snail.
