Chapter 7

Bee went forward on the gravel between two clumps of willows, and in front of her the little genius of the place jumped into the water and made rings on its surface, which grew larger and larger till they vanished. This genius was a little green frog with a white stomach. All was silent: A fresh breath of wind swept over that clear lake, of which each wave rose in a gracious and smiling fold.
"This is a pretty lake," said Bee, “but my feet are bleeding in my little torn slippers, and I am very hungry. I wish I was in the castle."
"Little sister," said George, “sit on the grass. I am going to wrap your feet in leaves to cool them; then I will go and look for supper for you. I saw up there, close to the road, briars black with berries. I will bring you the largest and sweetest in my hat. Give me your handkerchief, I will fill it with strawberries, for there are plants close by the edge of the path, under the shade of the trees. And I will fill my pockets with nuts."
He made a bed of moss for Bee near the side of the lake, under a willow, and went off.
Bee lay with clasped hands on her bed of moss, and saw the stars kindle their tremulous lights in the pale sky; then her eyes half shut; yet she seemed to see in the air a little dwarf riding on a crow. This was not an illusion. The dwarf drew the bridle in the mouth of the black bird, stopped above the little girl, and fixed his round eyes on her. Then he struck his spurs, and went off at full flight. Bee saw these things confusedly and went to sleep.

She was sleeping when George came back with his harvest, which he put next to her. He then went down to the edge of the lake to wait till she woke. The lake was sleeping under its delicate crown of leafage. A light mist softly crept over it. All at once the moon showed itself between the branches and immediately the waters were strewn with points of light.
George plainly saw that the lights which glanced on the waters were not all broken reflections of the moon, for he noticed blue flames which came whirling neared, and rose and fell and swayed as if they were dancing rounds. He soon discerned that these flames flickered on white foreheads, on the foreheads of women. In a short time lovely heads crowned with weed and shell, shoulders down which fell blue hair, bosoms glittering with pearls and from which veils were sliding, rose above the waves. The boy recognised the Sylphs, and tried to fly. But already pale, cold arms had seized him, and he was being carried, in spite of his struggles and screams, through the waters, in halls of crystal and porphyry.

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