'You silly girl,' she replied. 'Don't you see--they are the roots of the trees. We have got right down underneath.'

Leonore stared in wonder.

'I thought their roots were in the _earth_,' she said.

'Perhaps the earth doesn't go down so far as we thought,' said Hildegarde, 'or perhaps it has been cleared away here to make a path.

Yes, I should think that's how it is. But you see, Leonore, if we're getting into Fairyland we must expect to see a good many queer things, not like what we are accustomed to.'

'Of course,' Leonore agreed, her eyes sparkling at the idea. 'I don't think I should really feel _surprised_ at anything. But do let us hurry on, Hildegarde.'

They took hands again and ran on. It was quite easy to do so, as there was light enough to see where they were going, and the way still sloped gently downwards. Suddenly Hildegarde stopped.

'Hark!' she exclaimed; 'do you hear that sound, Leonore? What can it be?' for a very soft monotonous sort of whirr was plainly to be distinguished.

'Can it be water?' Leonore was beginning, when Hildegarde interrupted her.

'It is a spinning-wheel,' she whispered eagerly. 'Now, Leonore, our adventures are really beginning.'

Almost as she spoke, they became aware that just in front of them the pa.s.sage made a turn; and another minute brought them within sight of a kind of niche at one side, within which sat a not altogether unfamiliar figure. It was that of the old dame of the market-place at Alt. She was spinning busily.

The children stopped. They felt her bright eyes fixed upon them, but neither liked to speak. They waited in respectful silence.

'Welcome,' she said at last, while a smile broke over her face. 'I have been expecting you.'

They drew a little nearer.

'Then you _are_ a fairy,' Leonore burst out, 'and it was you I heard laugh on our way here--wasn't it?'

'Never mind about that,' said the dame. 'Tell me what you want.'

'Oh,' said Hildegarde softly, 'you know that better than we do. You know all about us. We want to get to Fairyland, and you can show us the way, can you not?'

To their disappointment and surprise, the dame shook her head. But her words softened the disappointment a little.

'No--not quite that,' she replied. 'Into actual Fairyland itself I cannot take or lead you. No one but yourselves can do that--and,' with a little sigh, 'there are but few who ever really penetrate there. It cannot be otherwise. But I can help you and show you a good deal, so do not look sad about it. There are many, many wonderful things to see between this and actual Fairyland.'

At this the little girls brightened up.

'Please tell us,' said Leonore timidly, 'do you always sit here, except when you come up to where we live? And are you always spinning?'

The dame shook her head and smiled again.

'No,' she replied. 'This is only one of my posts. I am here to-day because I expected you. And I spin when I have no other special work to do. We do not love idleness.'

Hildegarde had moved quite close up to her.

'What are you spinning now?' she said softly. Oh, I see--it is cobwebs, is it not?'

'You have good eyes, my child,' said the dame; and so indeed she had, for, but for a certain glistening as the light caught the almost invisible ball of threads, nothing could have been perceived. 'Yes, our fairy looms use a good deal of cobweb yarn--there is nothing like it for our gossamer tissue, nothing that takes such shades of colour.'

Leonore listened with wide-open eyes.

'Oh,' she said beneath her breath, 'I wish I could see it--I----'

'So you shall,' said the dame; 'that is a wish it is easy to grant'; and as she spoke she rose from her seat, giving a touch to the spinning-wheel which made it revolve with double speed, and changed the soft whirr into a louder sound, almost like a note of music. The children stared at the wheel, and in that moment of their attention being distracted the old dame had vanished, and in her stead stood a lovely figure, smiling down upon them.

'Oh,' exclaimed Hildegarde, 'you are my own fairy lady. I remember you now--it was you that gave me the nuts when I was a baby.'

'And I have dreamt of you,' added Leonore eagerly. 'And this is the gossamer--may I touch it?' she went on, softly stroking the gleaming garment which floated round the fairy. 'I can _scarcely_ feel it.'

'It says much for you if you feel it at all,' said the lady. 'But now, my children, if you want to see some of the things open to you to visit, you must be on your way. Go straight on till you come to a barred gate--that is one of the doors into gnomeland. Knock and say that the fairy of the spinning-wheel sent you, and asks for you courtesy and kindness.

Leonore looked a very little frightened.

'Is there any fear?' she began. 'Could the gnomes be vexed at our coming?'

Hildegarde turned to her with a little impatience.

'Of course not,' she said, 'if our fairy lady sends us.'

[Ill.u.s.tration: "I MUST GIVE YOU ONE OR TWO WARNINGS."]

'But still,' said the lady, though she smiled, 'I must give you one or two warnings. Gnomes are gnomes, remember--not angels, not even fairies.

They are queer-tempered folk. In speaking to them you must be very respectful and never interrupt them. And you must never seem to pity them in the very least; they think their underground country is far more wonderful and delightful than any other, and you must not disagree with this opinion.'

'No,' said Hildegarde, 'we shall be very careful. Come along, Leonore.'

'Shall we find you here when we come back, please, dear fairy lady?'

asked Leonore.

'You will not return this way,' their friend answered. 'But you will see me again before long--never fear.'

She pointed towards the pa.s.sage, and as she did so it seemed to the children that the light increased, as if her white hand had touched some unseen spring in the air. Nor did it grow dimmer again--though not very bright, it was now twice as bright as when they first entered, only the colour had grown reddish; and as they walked on, they noticed this more and more.

'It looks like the light of a fire, of a great fire,' said Leonore.

'Or of a great many fires,' said Hildegarde. 'I daresay it is that, for I have heard stories of the gnomes working at metals, and to do that they must have big fires like blacksmiths, you know.'

'I hope it won't be very hot in their country,' said Leonore, who was more timid than Hildegarde.

'It will be all right whatever it is,' replied her friend, 'otherwise you may be sure our fairy would not have let us come. Gnomeland is the nearest to our world of all the fairy countries--or the border countries, as they are, I suppose--so it is right to begin with it. But you needn't be frightened, Leonore. I hope we shall have lots of adventures, now we have really got started.'

'You are so brave,' said Leonore admiringly, 'and you seem to know so much about fairy things. What are all the other countries, do you think?'

Hildegarde smiled.

'Oh, more, far more, than we have any idea of,' she said. 'Just think how many kinds of fairies we have _names_ for even. Gnomes, and pixies, and brownies, and wood-sprites, and water-sprites, and mermaids, and----'