“‘By treating this young lady here as your daughter,’ he replied. ‘Have no fear,’ he said, turning to Eolen. ‘No harm can befall you. What I have done is for the best.’
“But before he went away he gave Eolen the gold ring, and told her to wear it for the sake of his mother, who sat by the Well at the End of the World. She thanked him for his kindness and promised she would keep the ring and treasure it as long as she lived.
“But there was one trouble with this magic ring. It was too large for any of Eolen’s fingers. She had the whitest and most beautiful hands ever seen, but the ring would fit none of her fingers. Around her neck she wore a necklace of coral beads, and on this necklace she hung the ring.
“For many day’s Eolen’s stepmother was kind to her, almost too kind. But the woman was afraid her stepdaughter would inform the judges of her effort to steal and hide her husband’s will. The judges were very severe in those days and in that country, and if the woman had been brought before them and such a crime proven on her, she would have been sent to the rack.”
“What is a rack?” asked Sweetest Susan.
“Hit’s de place whar dey scrunch folks’s ve’y vitals out’n ’em,” said Drusilla solemnly.
“That’s about right, I reckon,” assented Mr. Thimblefinger. “Well, the stepmother was as kind to Eolen as she knew how to be, but the kindness didn’t last long. She hated her stepdaughter worse than ever. She was afraid of her, but she didn’t hate her any the less on that account.
“Eolen had a habit of taking off her coral necklace and placing it under her pillow at night. One night, when she was fast asleep, her stepmother crept into the room and slipped the ring from the necklace. She had no idea it was a magic ring. She said to herself that it would look better on her daughter’s finger than it did on Eolen’s coral necklace, so she took the ring and slipped it on the finger of her sleeping daughter, and then stepped back a little to admire the big golden circle on the coarse, red hand.
“Almost immediately the daughter began to toss and tumble in her sleep. She flung her arms wildly about and tried to talk. The mother, becoming alarmed, tried to wake her, but it was some time before the girl could be roused from her troubled sleep.
“‘Oh!’ she cried, when she awoke, ‘what is the matter with me? I dreamed some one was cutting my finger off. What was it? Oh! it hurts me still!’