y, at noon, she met me as before, and again we travelled
till evening. The third day she came once more at noon, and we walked on
together. Now, though we had talked about a great many things connected
with Fairy Land, and the life she had led hitherto, I had never been
able to learn anything about the globe. This day, however, as we went
on, the shadow glided round and inwrapt the maiden. It could not change
her. But my desire to know about the globe, which in his gloom began to
waver as with an inward light, and to shoot out flashes of many-coloured
flame, grew irresistible. I put out both my hands and laid hold of it.
It began to sound as before. The sound rapidly increased, till it grew
a low tempest of harmony, and the globe trembled, and quivered, and
throbbed between my hands. I had not the heart to pull it away from the
maiden, though I held it in spite of her attempts to take it from me;
yes, I shame to say, in spite of her prayers, and, at last, her tears.
The music went on growing in, intensity and complication of tones, and
the globe vibrated and heaved; till at last it burst in our hands, and
a black vapour broke upwards from out of it; then turned, as if blown
sideways, and enveloped the maiden, hiding even the shadow in its
blackness. She held fast the fragments, which I abandoned, and fled from
me into the forest in the direction whence she had come, wailing like
a child, and crying, "You have broken my globe; my globe is broken--my
globe is broken!" I followed her, in the hope of comforting her; but
had not pursued her far, before a sudden cold gust of wind bowed the
tree-tops above us, and swept through their stems around us; a great
cloud overspread the day, and a fierce tempest came on, in which I lost
sight of her. It lies heavy on my heart to this hour. At night, ere I
fall asleep, often, whatever I may be thinking about, I suddenly hear
her voice, crying out, "You have broken my globe; my globe is broken;
ah, my globe!"

Here I will mention one more strange thing; but whether this peculiarity
was owing to my shadow at all, I am not able to assure myself. I came
to a village, the inhabitants of which could not at first sight be
distinguished from the dwellers in our land. They rather avoided than
sought my company, though they were very pleasant when I addressed them.
But at last I observed, that whenever I came within a certain distance
of any one of them, which distance, however, varied with diffe