"Good-night, dear Tante, good-night, Willy," and Bettina stumbled sleepily off with her grandfather, Willy calling after her not to let the Erl King get her.
It was, indeed, a dreadful night. The candle which Wilhelm held high, standing long in the doorway, made but little impression on a fog which, wrapping the world in mystery, stung Bettina in the face, choked up her throat and gave her a queer feeling of having lost even the world itself.
She drew close to her grandfather and nestled against his side, her hand seeking his in the darkness.
"Ja, ja, little one," he said, "do not fear, child, grandfather knows every step of the way."
He might know the way, but he certainly did not know the puddles.
Splash!
Bettina's little wooden shoe went deep into the water.
Bump!
One foot was in a hole, a bush held fast her shawl.
It would be all right when they reached the forest and the path went straight between the fir trees, but here it was awful.