It would fill pages to tell all those little sea-fairies told Bessie Jane, and which they told in such entrancing way that time flew. The tide came in and went out, and was again coming in, and the entranced child did not even notice it, or that the big white sun was wheeling down towards his setting.
A great lane of crimson fire stretched away on the blue-grey water from the outer bay to the horizon, and just as the sea-fairies had finished telling her all the wonders of their life and doings she saw coming towards her down this lane of rich light a tiny carriage in the shape of a scallop-shell, drawn by four little horses, two abreast, and white as sea-spray. As the tiny steeds sped onward and drew near, Bessie Jane saw leaning back in the carriage a sea-fairy with a bandage of red seaweed across her eyes and ears.
When the horses stopped, all the sea-fairies formed themselves in a circle round the carriage, and looked intently at the child on the shore.
As Bessie Jane noted all this, telling herself what handsome horses they were and what an elegant little carriage, and how beautiful it looked on the sun’s pathway, a silvery voice, like the twitter of a baby lark low in its nest amongst the heather, piped from the carriage:
‘Please give me back my eyes and my ears.’
‘What eyes and ears?’ asked the child, bewildered, for she had quite forgotten that she had got the sea-fairy’s eyes and ears.
‘Why, my own dear little eyes and ears that I lent you for a night and a day,’ piped the sweet voice again.
‘Must I give them back?’ asked Bessie Jane.
‘Indeed you must,’ said the fairy. ‘I have missed them oh so much! No beautiful vision have I seen, no lovely sounds have I heard, since I lent them to you yesterday afternoon. I waited until the sun had put on his flame-coloured robe before coming for them.’
‘How can I give you back your eyes and your ears?’ asked the child helplessly. ‘The Wise Woman put them in, and she isn’t here to take them out.’