ldreda made one despairing effort to escape, but she heard again Kong
Tolv's proud laugh, and looking up, she saw that the thick oak-wood had
changed to an army. In place of every tree stood a fierce warrior, ready
to guard every step. She thought it must be all a delirious dream that
would vanish with the morning. Suddenly she heard the far village clock
strike the hour. Mechanically she counted--one--two--three--four--up to
_twelve_.

As she pronounced the last word, Kong Tolv caught her in his arms,
saying, "Thou hast named me and art mine."

Instantly all the scene vanished, and Hyldreda found herself standing on
the bleak side of a little hill, alone in the moonlight. But very soon
the clear night darkened, and a heavy storm arose. Trembling, she looked
around for shelter, and saw in the hill-side a tiny door, which seemed
to invite her to enter. She did so! In a moment she stood dazzled by a
blaze of light--a mortal amidst the festival of the elves. She heard the
voice of Kong Tolv, half-speaking, half-singing,

"Welcome, maiden, fair and free,
Thou hast come of thyself in the hill to me;
Stay thou here, nor thy fate deplore;
Thou hast come of thyself in at my door."

And bewildered by the music, the dance, and the splendor, Hyldreda
remembered no more the cottage, with its one empty chair, nor the
miserable mother, nor the little sister straining her weeping eyes along
the lonely road.

* * * * *

The mortal maiden became the Elle-king's bride, and lived in the hill
for seven long years; at least, so they seemed in Elfinland, where time
passes like the passing of a strain of music, that dies but to be again
renewed. Little thought had she of the world above ground, for in the
hill-palace was continual pleasure, and magnificence without end. No
remembrance of lost kindred troubled her, for she sat in the
Dronningstolen, and all the elfin people bowed down before the wife of
the mighty Kong Tolv.

She might have lived so always, with no desire ever to go back to earth,
save that one day she saw trickling down through the palace roof a
pearly stream. The elves fled away, for they said it was some mortal
weeping on the grassy hill overhead. But Hyldreda staid and looked on
until the stream settled into a clear, pellucid pool. A sweet mirror it
made, and the Hill-king's bride ever loved to see her own beauty. So she
went and gazed down into the shining water.