‘It is full of emptiness,’ said he, laughing.
‘It is full of the dear little Pool’s sunbeams to make Mammie Trebisken’s eyes glad,’ insisted the child; and covering the Pail very carefully with her pinafore, she went down towards the cottage, and Tom watched her until she was hidden behind a great boulder of granite, and then he too went on his way.
Ninnie-Dinnie did not get home till quite late in the afternoon, and when Joan asked her where she had been so long, she said a little Skavarnak would not let her come before, and that he stood in the path barring the way, till a dinky little woman in a bluish cloak came over the moor, and then he sped away through a hole in a carn.
‘What a funny thing!’ said Joan; ‘hares generally keep out of folks’ way. He must be different from other little hares.’
‘I am sure he must be,’ she said, setting the Pail on the dresser.
‘Have ’ee brought the sunbeams?’ asked Joan, turning her gaze to the bucket.
‘Yes; and by-and-by, when the sun begins to set, you will be able to see them.’
Joan, thinking her Ninnie-Dinnie was pretending—for she saw when the child came into the kitchen that the Pail contained nothing—only laughed.
When the great round sun dropped down to his setting, the crippled woman, happening to turn her face to the dresser, saw a tongue of white flame rise out of the Pail, and on its tip burnt a ruby star!
It startled her almost out of her senses at first; but as it did not grow bigger, but only increased in beauty, she gazed at it with wondering delight.