sed to wander out to the old Bermuda
fields almost every fine afternoon, and sit there until the light had
faded from the sky, watching Dilly Bal hanging the stars on their pegs.
The Evening Star was such a large and heavy one that Dilly Bal always
replaced it before dark, so as to be sure not to drop it.

Once when we stayed out in the Bermuda fields later than usual, a big
star fell from its place, and went flying across the sky, leaving a long
and brilliant streamer behind it. At first, Nan thought that Dilly Bal
had tried to hang the Evening Star on the wrong peg, but when she looked
in the west, there was the big star winking at her and at all of us as
hard as it could.

The pity of it was that Nan and Gabriel, and all their young friends,
had finally to come in contact with the hard practical affairs of the
world. As for Tasma Tid, contact had no special influence on her. She
was to all appearance as unchangeable as the pyramids, and as mysterious
as the Sphinx. But it was different with Nan and Gabriel, and, indeed,
with all the rest. Their story soon ceased to be a simple one. In some
directions, it appeared to be a hopeless tangle, catching a great many
other persons in its loops and meshes; so that, instead of a simple,
entrancing story, all aglow with the glamour of romance, they had
troubles that were grievous, and their full share of dulness and
tediousness, which are the essential ingredients of everyday life.

After all, it is perhaps fortunate that the marvellous dreams of Nan and
Gabriel, and the quaint imaginings of Tasma Tid are not to be
chronicled. The spinning of this glistening gossamer once begun would
have no end, for Nan was an expert dreamer both night and day, and in
the practice of this art, Gabriel was not far behind her; while Tasma
Tid, who was Nan's maid and bodyguard, could frame her face in her
hands, and tell you stories from sunrise to sundown and far into the
night.

Tasma Tid, though she was only a child in stature and nature, was
growner in years, as she said, than some of the grownest grown folks
that they knew. She was a dwarf by race, and always denied bitterly,
sometimes venomously, that she was a negro, declaring that in her
country the people were always at war with the blacks. Her color was
dark brown, light enough for the blood tints to show in her face, and
her hair was straight and glossy black. From the _Wanderer_, she soon
found herself in the slave market at Malve