hades fall.'

Then her father pledged his word that all should be done as she
wished.

Now as her father left her room, the lady sent her
four-and-twenty maidens down to her bower that they might eat and
drink. And when she was left alone she hastened to drink a
sleeping draught which she had already prepared in secret.

This draught would make her seem as one who was dead. And indeed
no sooner had she drunk it than she grew pale and still.

Her cruel stepmother came up into the room. She did not love the
beautiful maiden, and when she saw her lying thus, so white, so
cold, she laughed, and said, 'We shall soon see if she be really
dead.'

Then she lit a fire in the silent room, and placing some lead in
a little goblet, she stirred it over the flames with an iron
spoon until it melted. When the lead was melted the stepmother
carried a spoonful carefully to the side of the bed, and stood
there looking down upon the still white form. It neither moved
nor moaned.

'She is not dead,' murmured the cruel woman to herself; 'she
deceives us, that she may be carried away to the land of her own
true love. She will not lie there silent long.' And she let some
drops of the burning lead fall on to the heart of the quiet
maiden. Yet still the maiden never moved nor cried.

'Send for her father,' shouted the cruel stepmother, going to the
door of the little room, for now she believed the maiden was
really dead.

'Alas, alas!' cried her father when he came and saw his daughter
lying on her white bed, so pale, so cold. 'Alas, alas, my child
is dead indeed!'

Then her seven brothers wept for their beautiful sister; but when
they had dried their tears, they arose and went into the forest.
There they cut down a tall oak-tree and made a bier for the
maiden, and they covered the oak with silver.

Her seven sisters wept for their beautiful sister when they saw
that she neither stirred nor moaned. They wept, but when they had
dried their tears they arose and sewed a shroud for the maiden,
and at each stitch they took they fastened into it a little
silver bell.

Now the duke, her father, had pledged his word that his daughter
should be carried, ere she was buried, to St. Mary's Church. Her
seven brothers therefore set out on the long sad journey toward the
gloomy north country, carrying their sister in the silver-mounted
bier. She was clad in the shroud her seven sisters had sewed, and
the silver bells tinkled softly at each s