“Oh!” said the child, in awed wonder. “It is so beautiful! And do you think it really has such power?”
“Why, yes, of course; Shreve told me so.”
“Ah!” sighed little Sana, “if I only had a tiny bit, I would not be so afraid of the butler when he scolds me.”
Bebelle carefully tore the moss in half and gave Sana part of it.
“I must go back to my carving now,” he said, as the child tried to thank him.
“And I to my fire. Oh, Bebelle! Look! Look!” cried Sana. “The fire has gone out while I have been talking to you!”
“I will make you another.”
When Mother Jorgan came in, the fire was again burning brightly.
“Are you ready, Bebelle?” she asked, her voice trembling with excitement. “Shreve is giving the king his raven.”
“No, dear Mother Jorgan, I have mended the fire for Sana instead.”