dim light on the grass, like a glowworm, and then Arndt
saw the elfin mound open again; but this time the palace looked like a
dim, gloomy staircase. On the top stair stood the little Hill-man,
holding the glowworm lamp, and making many low bows to his new master.
Arndt glanced rather fearfully down the staircase; but then he thought
of Reutha, and his love for her made him grow bold. He took upon
himself a lordly air, and bade his little servant lead the way.

The Hill-man took him through beautiful galleries, and halls, and
gardens, until the boy's senses were intoxicated with these lovely
things. Every now and then he stopped, and asked for Reutha: but then
there was always some new chamber to be seen, or some dainty banquet
to be tasted; until, by degrees, Arndt's memory of his little sister
grew dimmer, and he revelled in the delights of the fairy palace hour
after hour. When night came--if so it could be called in that lovely
place, where night was only day shadowed over and made more
delicious--the boy felt himself lulled by sweet music to a soft
dreaminess, which was all the sleep that was needed in that fairy
paradise.

Thus, day after day passed in all gay delights, the elfin people were
the merriest in the world, and they did all their little master
desired. And Arndt knew not that while they surrounded him with
delights it was only to make him forget his errand. But one day, when
the boy lay on a green dell in the lovely fairy-garden, he heard a
low, wailing song, and saw a troop of little mortal children at work
in the distance. Some were digging ore, and others making jewellery,
while a few stood in the stream that ran by, beating linen, as it
seemed. And among these poor little maidens, who worked so hard and
sang so mournfully, was his own sister Reutha.

"No one cares for me," she murmured; and her song had in it a
plaintive sweetness, very different from the way in which the little
Danish maiden spoke on earth. "Reutha is alone--her hands are sore
with toil--her feet bleed--but no one pities her. Arndt sleeps in
gorgeous clothes, while Reutha toils in rags. Arndt is the
master--Reutha is the slave! Poor Reutha is quite alone!"

Even amidst the spells of fairyland that voice went to the brother's
heart. He called the Hill-people, and bade them bring Reutha to him.
Then he kissed her, and wept over her, and dressed her in his own
beautiful robes, while the Hill-men dared not interfere. Arndt took
h