"And as for the fairy," said Herr Schiller's daughter, "she was one of the band of gypsies who passed through here about that time; and the smoke you saw in the woods, came from their camp. I remember this woman very well. I saw her the day before you met her, and she had that yellow satin skirt and red waist in a bundle of old clothes she carried: I gave her the old red silk handkerchief myself, for one of her baskets; and she opened the bundle, to put it in with the rest of the clothes."
"And I saw her too!" exclaimed Rick's mother. "She was here at the castle, and begged me to give her some old clothes in exchange for some of her pretty baskets. She showed me an old embroidered yellow satin skirt, which a lady had given her, and asked me if I could give her a waist to go with it. Knowing how much the gypsies like bright colors, I gave her an old red satin waist, which pleased her greatly."
"Oh, yes!" said Rick; "and now I remember her myself. When I first saw her, she was dressed in an old faded calico: she was about the castle some time, and finally went out of the yard carrying her bundle of old clothes with her. I scarcely looked at her at the time, she appeared to be so uninteresting. Nanette was having great trouble with me that morning, trying to get me to read a lesson; and I told her, that, if she did not stop her noise, or tell me a fairy-story, I would slap her in the face, to which she replied, 'Rick Lordelle, you will surely grow up a disgrace to every one who belongs to you!' I remember this distinctly; because, after Zenia foretold what would happen to me if I kept on in my ways, I recollected Nanette had said something like that to me, when she was so vexed with me in the morning."
"As for the paths opening, that is plain enough," added Herr Schuler. "These little woodland paths seldom appear until you are close to them, and the road that opened between the mountains was in one of those narrow defiles which are quite invisible in the distance. Across that marshy district, there are a great many moss-grown stones, which serve for footing, if any one can tell them from the rest of the bog."
"It does not make any difference now," said Rick, "that Zenia turns out to be only a gypsy; for her warnings were just as true, and her advice just as good, as a real fairy's could have been: but I should not have thought so two years ago, and so I am very glad that I took her for one of Nanette's fairies."
After Pierre had finished reading, they all expressed themselves as much pleased with the story: Johnny was especially enthusiastic.
"I thought you didn't like fairy-stories, Johnny," said Sue.
"I never did like one very much before: but, you see, this fairy didn't turn out to be a fairy after all, and every thing she said was true, and really came to pass, so far as the person reading the story can know; and then, there is a good deal of sense in it from beginning to end; and that's the kind of story I like."
"It's just as good as a fairy-story, I think," said Felix; "because you suppose there is a fairy in it, until the very end, and then when you find it was a gypsy, you like the old gypsy just as well as you would a fairy. The worst of it is, I think it is a very long story for me to learn to read well very soon; and so I'm afraid it will be a good while before I get to Boston."
"I don't think it will take you long to learn to read it well, if you pay good attention to my directions," replied Pierre; "and if you want to get on faster at any time, you have only to give more time to the practice."