‘It must be later than I thought,’ said the wee voice, and the little creature within the bag began to tremble with apprehension. ‘Do make haste, dear little maid! It would be quite too dreadful to be too late after all you have done to free me from Hager’s power.’
‘I am awfully tired,’ was the child’s answer. ‘If I could only rest a few minutes I could go faster afterwards. Shall I? I am ready to drop.’
‘You must not sit down until you have reached the Tolmên. I am certain the Spriggans are following in our wake. They are throwing their Thunder-axes[10] over every moving thing they can see, and over every motionless thing they can touch, and if they should happen to knock against you and throw one over you, they have power to keep you helpless to move until the sun has risen.’
‘Why didn’t they do that when I was in danger of being drowned?’ asked Gerna.
‘The Thunder-axes are no good except just before the rising of the sun, or the Spriggans would not be following us to use them now. You won’t give up now, whatever it costs, will you, dear?’
‘Not if I can help it,’ said the child wearily.
She kept going on until she reached higher ground, where she saw standing out in the semi-darkness of the early morning a great Tolmên on the brow of the moor, and over it hanging like a hunter’s horn the silver curve of the old moon.
A cry of gladness broke from Gerna’s lips as she saw it, which must have made all the bad little fairies, if any were about, slink away in dismay, and the sight so cheered her that her weariness left her for a time, and she sped on like a hare until she dropped down by the big stone’s side.
‘We have reached the Tolmên, have we not?’ asked the little voice, all a-tremble with joy.
