'Take me into bed with you,' whispered back the little voice, 'and hide me in the folds of your bed-gown.'

When Gerna was sound asleep, the ancient dame began to look into every corner of the little chamber, as if she, too, were searching for something. She turned out all the things, even the child's pockets, took everything out of the great sea-chest, muttering to herself as she did so; and then she went to the bed where Gerna slept, and turned her over on her side, and felt under the clothes and the pillow.

'I was wrong; she ent a-got the purse,' she said aloud to herself, 'an' I thought she had. Aw, dear! I'm afraid we shall never have that bag an' the Small People's money.'

And then she undressed and got into bed.

But the old woman could not sleep a wink that night, and only dozed off when Gerna awoke.

The child had only time to drop her little friend into the chest before Great-Grannie was wide awake again and getting up to dress.

At the flow of the tide the children were again hurried off to the beach to search for the lost Piskey-purse, the old dame loudly lamenting that she was not able to go with them, owing to the hurt to her toe.

The tide was in, and whilst they waited for it to go down, Farmer Vivian came across the bar, and Gelert, seeing him coming towards them, made off.

'How is it you haven't been picking limpets lately?' asked the farmer, with a kindly smile, looking down at Gerna.

'Great-Grannie ordered us to look for a Piskey-purse instead,' said the little maid dolefully.

Then she remembered what the little voice had asked her to do if she saw Farmer Vivian.

'Yes,' he said, in answer to her question, 'I have such a pair of Shoes, and, odd to say, I have them in my pocket. What do you want them for?'

'To see if they will fit me, please, sir. May I have them now and try them on?'

'You may, certainly; but I am afraid they are far too small even for your little feet.'

He dipped his hand into his coat-pocket, and, taking out a tiny pair of moss-coloured Shoes, he gave them to the child.

'Why, they are dolly's shoes!' she cried; 'only big enough for the Small People's feet. I am terribly disappointed.'

'Are you? Well, never mind; just see if they will fit you.'

'I will, just for fun,' laughed Gerna; and, putting one of them to her bare foot, to her unspeakable amazement it began to stretch, and in a minute it was on!

'Well, I never!' cried Farmer Vivian, and his great voice was so full of delight that it roared out all over the bar, even louder than Giant Tregeagle, whose roar of rage is still sometimes heard on St. Minver sandhills. 'The Shoe has stretching powers, it seems. Try to get on its fellow.'

Gerna quickly did so, and was as proud as a hen with a brood of chicks as she stared at her feet.

'You will have to keep them now,' said the farmer, lowering his big voice to such gentleness and sweetness that she would have thought it was her own little friend at home in the sea-chest if she had not known it wasn't. 'A dear little lady gave them to me to keep until I should find somebody they would fit, and I have waited a very long time for that somebody. With the Shoes she gave me a Lantern, which she said must be given with the Shoes;' and once more diving into his pocket, he fished out the tiniest lantern Gerna had ever seen. 'Just big enough,' he said, 'to light home a benighted dumbledory' (b.u.mblebee); and he went away laughing towards the cliffs.

Gerna kept on the Shoes till the tide was down to Piskey Goog, when she took them off and put them into her underskirt pocket with the d.i.n.ky Lantern.

The sands were strewn with Piskey-purses to-day instead of sh.e.l.ls, and as it gave her something to do, she picked up as many as she could see; and when the tide had gone down to Pentire Hawn, she went near there and sat on a rock.

So occupied was she with looking into the purses, and asking herself whether she ever could take the poor little imprisoned fairy across the bog country that night--for she knew it would have to be to-night if she took her at all--that she forgot all about the tide, which by this time had reached its lowest ebb, and was flowing in again.

The sea grew rough as it turned, and began to rush up the great beach and beat on the outer rocks with a terrible roar.

When Gerna had glanced into the last of her purses she looked about her, and found to her consternation that the sea was a long way up the bar, and the rock on which she sat was almost surrounded by angry water.

It was now quite impossible for her to get to the sands, and the only place not cut off by the sea was a tiny cove--a mere gash in the cliff midway between the two hawns, Pentire and Pentire Glaze. As it was, it was her only place of safety--at least, for a time--and she went to it at once, and sat down, white and frightened, under the cliff that towered darkly above her.

After a few minutes she stood up and shouted with all her might for someone to come to her help, but her shouts were drowned in the loud thunder of the breakers. She shouted until she was hoa.r.s.e--for she did not want to be drowned, poor child, and she knew there was no way out of the cove except by the cliff, which it was quite impossible for her to climb--and then she again sat down and wept bitterly.

As she was crying and sobbing, a strange noise above her made her look up, and there in a tiny hole in the face of the cliff a few feet above her head she saw the grinning face of a little Dark Man!

'You are caught in a trap,' he said, with a cough, 'and you will surely be drowned if we do not come to your help.'

'Will you help me, dear little Mister Spriggan?' cried Gerna, hope dawning in her eyes.

'Yes, if you will bring back to our goog, when the sea goes out, that precious purse which we know you have found.'

'I cannot do that, 'cause I promised I wouldn't, whatever happened,'

said the child, greatly distressed.

'Oh, then in that case we will leave you to the mercy of the sea! Of course, it will drown you, and a good thing too, for it will prevent your doing what the voice asked you to do. We shall have the bag and it in our hands again to-morrow, whilst you will make a dainty dish for the fishes' supper!' and the stone clicked and the ugly little face disappeared.

'h.e.l.lo! What are you doing down there, and the waves breaking all around you?' cried a voice far up the cliff, and, turning her tearful gaze upwards, Gerna saw kind Farmer Vivian--who looked almost as small as one of the Wee Folk from that great height--looking down upon her. 'A very good thing I gave you those d.i.n.ky Shoes this morning. Put them on quickly. There is not a moment to lose. In the cliff to your right you will find some steps cut out of the rock. They are very small indeed, but quite large enough for those little green Shoes to climb up on.'

Gerna hastened to obey, and she saw on the face of the cliff a tiny winding stairway. She put her feet on the first stair, and found herself going up and up without fear, and she was soon at the top of the cliff, standing by Farmer Vivian's side.

'There you are, as right as the Small People's change!' said he, with a smile in his eyes, which were as blue as the sea itself, and oh! so gentle and kind. 'Don't take off your Shoes until you have pa.s.sed all the Piskey Rings, or Spriggan Traps, or whatever they are,' he said, as Gerna turned her face towards her cottage. 'Pentire is full of them to-day--all made since last night, and all the colour of your dear little Shoes.'

'You can't step anywhere without putting your feet on a Ring,' Gerna said to herself, as she hurried home over the great headland. On every Ring she stepped she felt she must stop to dance like a Piskey. And she was not sure, but she thought she saw little dark faces grinning horribly at her from every Ring she pa.s.sed over.

Great-Grannie was much upset when she heard what dangers her little great-granddaughter had been exposed to, for Gelert had come home with the news a few minutes before that she was drowned, as he could not see her anywhere!

The fright the old woman received showed her how wrong it was to covet the Small People's money, and she gave Gerna a basinful of hot bread-and-milk, and told her she could go to bed if she liked.

The child was worn out with all she had gone through, and went upstairs quite early, as she wanted to rest before taking the little prisoner to the Tolmen that night.

She did not undress before she had taken the ring-marked purse out of the chest once more, and told her wee friend of all that had happened and what she had gone through.

'I don't believe I should ever have got up that great cliff but for those d.i.n.ky Shoes,' she added when she had told all; 'nor over Pentire Glaze.'

'I am certain you wouldn't,' said the wee voice. 'The Spriggans were all about the cliffs and headland, but they were powerless to hinder your going with those Shoes on your feet. You won't be afraid to take me over the bog now, will you, dear little maid?'

'No, that I shan't,' said Gerna; 'an' I'm a-going to do it to-night. But I must have a bit of sleep first. I hope I shall wake in time, an' that Great-Grannie won't miss me till I get back.'

'She won't miss you,' a.s.sured the little voice. 'The excitement she has suffered lately has exhausted her, and she will sleep until you are back in your own little bed again. Take me into bed with you, and put me close under your chin, and when the time is up for us to start I will tickle until I wake you.'

The child was soon in a deep slumber, and it seemed to her she had only just fallen asleep when she felt something tickling her neck.

'Dress quickly!' cried the little voice close to her ear. 'But before you do, let me impress on you once more that I can never repay you for your kindness, and that all you do for me you must do out of the purest pity and love, and for nothing else. So if you have any hankering after the Little People's gold, your journey is sure to end in failure. For the Spriggans, in spite of the Shoes and the Lantern Farmer Vivian gave you, will prevent your reaching the Tolmen, and will make you give me back into their hands, and thrust upon you the golden pieces they have so often offered you, but which will only bring you trouble.'

'I don't want anything for taking you to the place where you are to be set free,' said Gerna simply. 'I am doing it 'cause I love you, an'

'cause I am terribly sorry for you and your little True Love, an'

I don't want that wicked Hager to make you marry him.'