seemed not now to be listening. She began to smooth
and sleek her hair, sprinkling the ice-cold water upon it, so that the
drops ran glittering down those slippery paths like dew.

"Midden, Midden," said Nod quickly, "I did not mean to say any
unkindness. You would give me back my Wonderstone very quickly?"

"Oh, but, gentle Mulla-mulgar," said the Midden, "my hands are cold;
they might put out its fiery flame."

"I do not think so, most beautiful Midden," Nod said. "Show me your
fingers, and let me see."

Both sly tiny hands, colder than ice-water, the beautiful Water-midden
outstretched towards him. He gazed, stooping out of his ugliness, into
those eyes whose darkness was only shadowy green, clearer than the
mountain-water. For an instant he waited, then he shut his eyes and put
the burning Wonderstone into those two small icy hands. "Return it to me
quickly--quickly, Midden, or Tishnar will be angered against me. How
must the Meermut of my mother now be mourning!"

But the Midden had drawn back amid the reeds, holding tight the ruby-red
stone in her small hands, and her eyes looked all darkened and slant,
and her small scarlet mouth was curled. "Can you not trust me but a
moment, Prince of the Mulgars?"

And suddenly a loud, hoarse voice broke out: "Nod ho, Nod ho! Ulla ulla!
Nod ho!" Nod started back.

"Oh, Midden, Midden!" he said, "it is my brother, Mulla Thumma, calling
me. Give me my Wonderstone; I must go at once."

But the Midden was now rocking and floating on the shadowy water, her
bright hair sleeking the stream behind her. Her face was all small
mischief. "Let me make magic but once," said she, "and I will return it.
Stop, Prince Ummanodda Nizzanares Eengeneela!"

"I cannot wait, not wait. Have pity on me, most beautiful Midden. I did
but put it into your hands for friendship's sake. Return it to me now.
Tishnar listens."

"Ummanodda! Ahoh, ahoh, ahoh!" bawled Thumb's harsh voice, coming
nearer.

"Oh, harsh and angry voice," cried the Midden, "it frightens me--it
frightens me. To-morrow, in the night-time, Mulla-mulgar, come again. I
will guard and keep your Wonderstone. Call me, call me. I will come."

There was a sudden pale and golden swirl of water. A light as of amber
floated an instant on the dark, gliding clearness of the torrent. Nod
stood up dazed and trembling. The Water-midden was gone. His eyes
glanced to and fro. Desolate and strange rose Tishnar's peak. He felt
small and afra