sad sinkings of the heart. They had not gone far when they came to a
cottage in the forest, surrounded, like her granny's garden, by a briar
hedge.

Now I must tell you that Babette had fallen into the power of a reputed
wizard, and he had the power of making everything within this briar
hedge invisible and intangible to those outside. So that poor Babette
would be more safely imprisoned there than in an iron-barred fortress.
She did not realise this at first; she grew to understand it later, when
she became more acquainted with the wizard (or Mr Squint-eyes, as
Babette called him) and his ways. The hedge was so thick and high, and
the thorns were so huge, that it would have been impossible for Babette
to think of squeezing herself through it, and running away.

The wizard parted this hedge with his wand; it closed up thick and close
behind them as they entered.

The cottage garden was laid out in patches of vegetables. Not a flower
was to be seen in it; but there were fruit-trees with ripe apples, and
pears, plums and medlars; for it was the early autumn. They entered into
the little parlour which seemed dark and gloomy to Babette. Mr
Squint-eyes tossed off a mug of beer that stood on the table, and told
her to be off to bed. The poor girl was hungry; for bilberries are not
very satisfying and it was supper time; but she crept up the narrow
stairs, too much frightened to say a word. She found a tiny room with a
white bed in it, a looking-glass, very dim and old and uncanny-looking,
with candlesticks on either side, also a primitive washing-stand.

As she began to undress, a sense of fear and loneliness came over her.
She thought of her happy home at Eppenhain, and of the Count, and hot
tears began to fall. However, she was accustomed to look at the cheerful
side of things. "They are sure to find me to-morrow," she said to
herself; she knew she could not be far away.

The next morning she was awakened by a loud knocking at the door. The
horrid man who had stolen her, poked his head in, "Get up, get up, you
lazy bones," he said, "and see about my breakfast."

Babette hurried downstairs and found a small kitchen, with a door
leading into the garden. There was a heap of dried wood just outside the
door, and, after many attempts, she succeeded in making the fire.

She filled the heavy iron kettle from the pump in the yard, making her
pretty frock quite black.

"That's right, that's the way that women should work," s