‘The Shoes began to take her over that dreadful bog.’
‘Aren’t there?’ cried the little voice, with another happy laugh. ‘The Lantern will not only give warmth if so held, and cloak you from the hobgoblins and wicked Spriggans, but will also give you courage, which you will need crossing this bog country.’
It was well Gerna was told all this before the Shoes began to take her over that dreadful bog. The mists rose thick and cold as she advanced, and crept over her with such chilling power that she felt as cold as a conkerbell,[8] she told herself. And the countless little lights, or eyes, or whatever they were, were horrid, and seemed to glaze[9] at her whichever way she looked. There were groans and sighs, too, which filled her with a nameless terror, and but for the cheerful little voice, which every now and again told her not to be afraid, and the white, clear shining of the tiny Lantern, she would have turned back.
By the time the bog was crossed, which she afterwards learned was by a narrow causeway, just wide enough for two small feet to walk on, she was chill to the very bone and terribly tired.
It was well on towards the sunrising by this time, and there was yet that wild moor to cross before she reached the Tolmên, and she was afraid she would never be able to reach it in time.
She was growing more and more weary every minute, and the Shoes, although they could guide and take her over the most difficult places, did not seem to be able to give her strength.
‘Do you think we shall get to the Tolmên before the sun gets up?’ asked the little voice anxiously.
‘I don’t know,’ Gerna answered in a low, weary voice. ‘The moon is up, I think—all there is left of it, I mean—and I can see another light shining somewhere away in the east.’