“Chip! Chip! Chee-ee-ee! H-sh-sh-sh! Whip!”
It is impossible to convey in words the saucy, defiant, chirping, inarticulate cry of the sprite, as it rammed its head again into the bosom of its victim. Presently the elf sprang away of itself, and perched upon the back of the mule.
“How is your mother, Netty?” then asked General Garnet.
“Waiting for you and the old woman, too. She sent me after you.”
And now Miss Joe and the general looked at each other in astonishment, as if mutually inquiring, “You, too?”
General Garnet, putting his hand upon the shoulder of the elf, and giving her a slight shake, put her upon the ground, took her hand, and walked up to the dark forest path, drawing her after him.
Miss Joe took the bridle, and leading her mule, followed.
A little way up the path was a horse standing perfectly still, saddled and bridled, and with a portmanteau on the crupper.
General Garnet remounted this horse, and, taking the wood-sprite before him, rode on up the path.
Miss Joe, not wishing to be left behind, tumbled up into her old saddle, and urged old Jenny to her best speed. They soon came to a little clearing in the forest, and paused before the humble door of a log house. The elf sprang down from her seat, and, darting into the door, cried: