The spindle turned with incredible velocity between her little feet, while she twisted the thread with both her hands. During the song, innumerable little lights became visible, which passed through the chink of the door, and spread through the cave in hideous masks. The elders continued spinning gloomily, and in expectation of the cries of distress of little Fable. But how terrified were they when a horrible nose appeared over their shoulders, and when upon looking around they beheld the whole cave filled with fearful forms, engaged in a thousand fantastic tricks. They shrunk together, howled with frightful voices, and would have turned to stone through fear, had not the scribe entered the cave bearing with him a mandrake root. The lights concealed themselves in the rocky cleft, and the cave became entirely illuminated, while the black lamp was extinguished, having been overturned in the confusion. The old hags were glad when they heard the scribe approaching; but were full of wrath against the little Fable. They called her forth, rebuked her terribly, and forbade her spinning longer. The scribe smiled grimly; because he supposed that now the little Fable was in his power, and said, "It is good that thou art here, and art kept employed. I hope that thou receivest thy share of punishment. Thy good spirit has guided me hither. I wish thee a long life and many pleasures." "I thank thee for thy good will," said Fable; "lo, what a good age is approaching thee. The hourglass and sickle only are wanting to make thee like in looks to the brother of my beautiful aunts. If thou needest quills, only pluck a handful of soft down from their cheeks." The scribe threatened to attack her. She smiled and said, "If thy beautiful locks and spiritual eyes are dear to thee, beware! think of my nails, thou hast not much more to loose." He turned with stifled rage towards the old women, who were rubbing their eyes, and searching for their distaffs. They could not find them because the lamp was extinguished; but they vented their rage against Fable. "Do let her go," said he spitefully, "that she may catch tarantulas to prepare your oil. I will tell you for your consolation that Eros is restlessly on the wing, and by his industry will keep your scissors busy. His mother, who has so often compelled you to spin the lengthened threads, will become a prey to the flames to-morrow." He laughed with joy, when he saw that Fable wept at this news, and giving a piece of the root to the old people, departed chuckling. The sisters, though supplied with oil, angrily ordered Fable to go in search of tarantulas, and Fable hastened away. She pretended to open the door, slammed it noisily, and crept stealthily to the back of the cave, where a ladder was hanging down. She ascended quickly, and soon came to an aperture, which opened into the apartment of Arcturus.