THE LOST SYLPHID. Page [95].
The boy blessed her with a tremulous voice. Little One pressed on, singing softly to herself, till she came to a frightful chasm, full of water.
“How shall I ever cross it!” she cried in alarm.
“May I help you, fair Sylphid?” said the grateful boy to whom she had given her last jewel. “I can make a bridge in the twinkling of an eye.”
So saying, he threw across the roaring torrent a film which looked as frail as any spider’s web.
“It will bear you,” said the Whisper: “do not be afraid!”
So Little One ventured upon the gossamer bridge, which was to the eye as delicate as mist; but to the feet as strong as adamant. She hushed her fears, and walked over it with a stout heart.
Now, she was on the borders of the Summer-land. Here were the turrets and spires, the soft white clouds, the green fields, and sunny streams. Instantly her long-lost wings appeared again; and she spread them like a happy bird, and flew home. Oh, it was worth years of longing and pain! She was held in tender embraces, and kissed lovingly by well-remembered friends. To her great surprise and delight, her father and mother were both there—they had arrived at the Summer-land while seeking their Little One.
“Now I know,” said her father, “that my daughter was not dreaming when she longed for her remembered home.”