“God help me,” said Zula.
Fan proceeded quickly but quietly to untie the ropes which bound Zula’s hands, and it was no easy task, being in utter darkness, but the work was soon accomplished with the help of Fan’s teeth, and, taking Zula’s hand, they stealthily crept out into the black night.
“Good bye,” whispered Fan. “Now go; they might find out if I don’t go back. They all slept when I crawled from the tent. Now go, and may the good fairies go with you to protect you.”
“Fan, go with me.”
“Oh, what would I do? I have no home nor any place. No, no, go.”
“Good bye—Now go!”
Zula pressed Fan’s hand and then she was left standing alone in the inky darkness, with all the great wide world around her. The woods, the grass, the wild flowers, even the broad, black sky above, none of which she could discern, seemed to speak to her of freedom, and whisper of a hope which she had thought forever lost. Standing there in the darkness under the sky, angry with a fast approaching storm, with the great raindrops falling about her and danger on every hand, she saw her castle again rising up in the darkness—saw again the glistening panes, the marble walls and sparkling fountain—saw the castle which would rise despite the darkness around her. She groped her way for some distance and suddenly came in contact with a huge oak tree which gave her head a fierce blow. She sank to the earth with a groan.