"At the Field of Wonders, at sunrise tomorrow morning."Pinocchio paid a gold piece for the three suppers and started on his way toward the field that was to make him a rich man.
He walked on, not knowing where he was going, for it was dark, so dark that not a thing was visible. Round about him, not a leaf stirred. A few bats skimmed his nose now and again and scared him half to death. Once or twice he shouted, "Who goes there?" and the faraway hills echoed back to him, "Who goes there? Who goes there? Who goes. . . ?"
As he walked, Pinocchio noticed a tiny insect glimmering on the trunk of a tree, a small being that glowed with a pale, soft light. "Who are you?" he asked.
"I am the ghost of the Talking Cricket," answered the little being in a faint voice that sounded as if it came from a faraway world. "What do you want?" asked the Marionette.
"I want to give you a few words of good advice. Return home and give the four gold pieces you have left to your poor old father who is weeping because he has not seen you for many a day."
"Tomorrow my father will be a rich man, for these four gold pieces will become two thousand."
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