s. It was a large room, full of old-fashioned furniture, that seemed to
have once belonged to some great house.

The window was built with a low arch, and filled with lozenge-shaped
panes. The wall was very thick, and built of solid stone. I could see
that part of the house had been erected against the remains of some old
castle or abbey, or other great building; the fallen stones of which
had probably served to complete it. But as soon as I looked out of the
window, a gush of wonderment and longing flowed over my soul like the
tide of a great sea. Fairy Land lay before me, and drew me towards it
with an irresistible attraction. The trees bathed their great heads in
the waves of the morning, while their roots were planted deep in gloom;
save where on the borders the sunshine broke against their stems, or
swept in long streams through their avenues, washing with brighter hue
all the leaves over which it flowed; revealing the rich brown of the
decayed leaves and fallen pine-cones, and the delicate greens of the
long grasses and tiny forests of moss that covered the channel over
which it passed in motionless rivers of light. I turned hurriedly to bid
my hostess farewell without further delay. She smiled at my haste, but
with an anxious look.

"You had better not go near the house of the ogre, I think. My son will
show you into another path, which will join the first beyond it."

Not wishing to be headstrong or too confident any more, I agreed;
and having taken leave of my kind entertainers, went into the wood,
accompanied by the youth. He scarcely spoke as we went along; but he led
me through the trees till we struck upon a path. He told me to follow
it, and, with a muttered "good morning" left me.

CHAPTER VIII

"I am a part of the part, which at first was the whole."
GOETHE.--Mephistopheles in Faust.

My spirits rose as I went deeper; into the forest; but I could not
regain my former elasticity of mind. I found cheerfulness to be like
life itself--not to be created by any argument. Afterwards I learned,
that the best way to manage some kinds of pain fill thoughts, is to dare
them to do their worst; to let them lie and gnaw at your heart till they
are tired; and you find you still have a residue of life they cannot
kill. So, better and worse, I went on, till I came to a little clearing
in the forest. In the middle of this clearing stood a long, low hut,
built with one end against a single tall cypr