ame still nearer.

"_Ach Gott!_" exclaimed an unfamiliar voice, and Olive, peering
forward, thought for half a second she was again dreaming. He was not,
certainly, dressed in blue, and he was a good deal taller than up to her
knee; but still he was--there was no doubt about it--he was a dwarf! And
another gaze at his queer little figure and bright sparkling eyes told
Olive that it was the very same little man who had smiled at Rex and her
when he saw them leaning out of the inn window that very afternoon.

She didn't feel frightened; he looked so good-natured and so sorry for
her. And somehow Olive's faith in the possible existence of a nation of
dwarfs had received a shock; she was much more inclined to take things
prosaically. But it was very difficult to explain matters. I think the
dwarf at the first moment was more inclined to take _her_ for something
supernatural than she was now to imagine him a brownie or a gnome. For
she was a pretty little girl, with a mass of golden fair hair and
English blue eyes; and with her hat half fallen off, and her cheeks
flushed, she might have sat for a picture of a fairy who had strayed
from her home.

Her German seemed all to go out of her head. But she managed to remember
the name of the village where they had been that afternoon, and a
sudden recollection seemed to come over the dwarf. He poured out a flood
of words and exclamations, amidst which all that Olive could understand
was the name of the village and the words "_verirrt_," "_armes Kind_,"
which she knew meant "lost" and "poor child." Then he went on to tell
that he too was on his way from the same village to somewhere; that he
came by the woods, because it was shorter, and lifting high his lantern,
gave Olive to understand that he could now show her the way.

So off she set under his guidance, and, only fancy! a walk of not more
than ten minutes brought them to the little inn! Olive's wanderings and
straying had, after all, drawn her very near her friends if she had
known it. Poor Auntie and Rex were running about in front of the house
in great distress. Uncle and the landlord and the coachman had set off
with lanterns, and the landlady was trying to persuade Auntie that there
was not _really_ anything to be afraid of; neither bears, nor wolves,
nor evilly-disposed people about: the little young lady had, doubtless,
fallen asleep in the wood with the heat and fatigue of the day; which,
as you know, was a very good g