Maia shook herself, so that the drops splashed in all directions. The rain had not hurt her waterproof at all, although it poured out of its folds, but her pretty hat, which she now took from her head, was so much the worse treated. The dainty thing, with its feathers and lace, was now nothing but a shapeless mass, and Puck did not look much better. His white coat was dripping, and its usually long silky hairs were hanging down in wet strands, giving him such a comically disconsolate look, that his young mistress laughed aloud.
"Only look, Puck! what a thing we have made of it!" said she in mock despair. "Why were we not sensible enough to stay in the park! How we do look, and how papa will scold! But you are to blame, you were the first to run off to the woods. Thank God, that at least we have a dry spot to sit in, else both of us would have been washed down to Radefeld, and Egbert would have had to fish us out."
She hurled the utterly spoiled hat upon the low bench that lined the wall on one side, seated herself and looked through the little window out upon the tempest. The rain was still coming down in torrents, and the wind howled around the lodge as though it would like to demolish it. Return home at present was not to be thought of. Mala yielded to the inevitable, drew the hood of her waterproof over her head, and watched Puck, who had stuck his nose through the small opening made by the door being left slightly ajar, and discontentedly followed with his eyes the falling drops.
Just then there appeared on the verge of the forest a person, who stood still for a moment and cast a searching glance around, but then started at a running pace over the clearing, straightway to the forest lodge. Now it was reached by the stranger, who was evidently likewise a fugitive from the storm, with a bold leap he cleared the little lake that had already been formed in front of the door, and kicked this open so violently, the inquisitive Puck was driven back by the shock. But then, with a loud bark, he rushed upon the intruder, who thus presumed to contest the sole possession of the house with himself and his mistress.
"Not so fierce, you little yelper!" cried the stranger, laughing. "Are you the lord and master in this enchanted cottage, or is it that little gray dryad cowering over yonder on that bench?"
He had stooped down to grasp the little animal, that quickly eluded him and took refuge in the corner, whence was now heard a suppressed laugh and a thin little voice saying:
"The dryad thanks you for your good opinion."
The stranger pricked up his ears; the answer showed him that it was no child of a collier or peasant, as he had at first supposed, who was crouched up there in the half-darkness of the ill-lit room. He gave a sharper look, but the low-drawn hood allowed nothing farther to be seen than a rosy little mouth, a pretty nose, and a pair of large brown eyes, that now, in their turn, were surveying the intruder with curiosity and astonishment.
He was a young man of about four-and-twenty years, with a handsome, open countenance, brown wavy hair, and bright laughing eyes. The weather had treated him ill, for he was without any waterproof: the gray traveling suit that he wore was dripping wet, and when he pulled off his hat, and waved it in salutation, the water fell from the brim in little rivulets on the floor.
"Let me implore you," said he "to grant most graciously to a lost traveler who has been caught in the rain, opportunity for a little rest. I am really an ordinary mortal, and no water-sprite, as my outward appearance would certainly lead you to suppose. May I come closer?"