A little exclamation of surprise escaped her as she glanced about her. It was full moon--the garden and the open space between it and the beginning of the forest were flooded with light. Somehow she had not expected this. In fact, relying upon the mysterious guidance and help which she felt sure would be given to her, she had not troubled herself beforehand about how it was all to be managed, and the sisters went so early to bed that they were often asleep before moonrise, if it were late. Linde smiled to herself with pleasure and ran gaily through the garden and along the field-path. And for some little way inside the forest her route was quite clear. But after a while it grew darker. The trees became more dense, and denser still she knew they would be the farther she advanced. So she walked more slowly, looking well about her, and now and then pressing the three precious feathers in the front of her bodice. "The great thing is not to miss the little path," she kept repeating, and after she had walked what seemed a considerable way, she began to fear she had done so. Then for the first time her courage threatened to fail her, and her heart took to beating much faster than was pleasant. She stood still. Strange uncanny sounds seemed in the air. Wailings far off among the trees; faint groans and stealthy rustlings as if some weird creatures were trying to get near her, a sudden sharp screech--it was only an owl, but that the child did not know!--and then the very curious, very thin and minute squeal of a bat, so seldom audible to human ears. "Oh dear," whispered Linde. "Robin, have you tricked me? I don't know where I am, and though it is so lonely, I seem to feel invisible creatures all about me. Oh, robin, you didn't tell me it would be so difficult to find the way." Then something touched her foot; she gave a little scream, till looking down she perceived a point of light just in front of her, and heard a well-known voice. "Foolish child," it said. "You might trust me. This is the entrance to the path. You have only to follow me." "Are you carrying a lamp--a fairy lamp?" asked Linde in a tone of great relief. "Why--I could fancy it was a glow-worm, only it is far too late in the year." "You are right," said her guide. "It is a glow-worm. We take care of them--they sleep down below all the winter. But I woke up this fellow on purpose. He is quite comfortable on my back. Now we must make haste. Follow me steadily till we come to the magic circle. Then you must act for yourself--you know what to do." He flew forward--near enough to the ground for Linde to keep the tiny light well in view. And to her surprise she found she could make her way quite easily without stumbling or hesitation, and now and then a faint whiff of scent reached her, as if to increase her confidence, though whether it was wafted back from the redbreast's wings or upwards from the little bunch of feathers, she could not have told.