“My children! Oh, give me my children!” pleaded the woman.
“Mortal, how came you here?” inquired the grim Croak.
“It was I who guided her hither,” answered the elfin.
“Then thou shalt die,” exclaimed the vast throng, as with one voice.
“Not all your hosts of this dim region nor your power can destroy me. Dash me to pieces against the rugged walls of your palace, burn me to ashes, and scatter them to the vapours, still I shall rise up stronger, in some other form to give you battle. Give the woman her little ones.”
“Beware! Let the race of this mortal give us back our stolen treasures. They have invaded [[258]]our domain, and have rifled it of some of its richest treasures. Through soil and rock and granite they have delved down, down into this under world, until we could hear the ring of their tools. And we have seen them change our dim regions into a wilderness.”
While Croak uttered these words the elfin glided swiftly forward, seized the children, and placing them safely in the mother’s arms, cried hurriedly, “Begone; run to the outer gate, and my power shall bear you company and carry you swiftly to the upper air. Quick!”
And the woman, pressing her babes tightly to her throbbing bosom, fled away, and rising through the mists which obscure the lower world, regained the hut on the cliff; while Love battled with the legions of Hate, and battles with them still—ay! and will battle with them to the end of time. [[259]]