Yet she dared not stop Raft lest she should anger the only one who had shown himself friendly. If she should speak out her whole heart, would he not turn against her and Faith with bitterness? Then, for just one brief moment--the thought of her helplessness flashed upon Sophia's mind. All was lost to them. They were already as those who had gone down among the tombs. Would it not be right for her to save Faith, at least, by complying? Faith would be free!--Raft had promised it. She herself might be delivered from the power of Spite and Hide, who would compel her to marry Halfway. True, she would be a Pixie's wife. But how much better Raft than Halfway! How much better to be free upon the Fringe, than imprisoned in Dame Tigrina's halls? To be permitted to see home and friends as often as she wished! Ought she not to make the sacrifice, and save dear Faith? The temptation flashed before her imagination for a moment--only for a moment. With a shudder, and a blush of self-reproach that she had even allowed the thought to rise, she put the temptation aside. "O Sir," she exclaimed, bursting into tears, "I pray you say no more! You have showed me some kindness; have pity on me now. I cannot do what you ask. I am betrothed to Sergeant True. The laws of my race would not allow a marriage with you or any other of your people. Such concord, fellowship, and communion we may never hold with Pixies. We dare not be thus unequally yoked together. Indeed, I would not offend you, but--" "Tut, tut," exclaimed the smuggler interrupting her, "there's no offence in particular. If you don't accept, it's your own look out. However, I can do nothing for you in that case. If you were my wife now, I should have a right to protect you and yours against all my kith and kin. I would do it, too! But as you don't choose that, I must e'en stand by my employer, and do the best I can for him. So, say no more about it. There! the chief is ready to leave, I see, and so good-night!" The two Pixies left the room, and Faith and Sophia were once more alone. Their grief was pitiful to see. There was not a ray of hope for them. O that they were dead! or, that they had never been born! So they moaned, and wept in each other's arms for long, long hours, until Nature hushed their anguish into the forgetfulness of sleep. While the Pixie chief was off upon his mission of unrighteousness, the Brownie captain had also gone upon a journey. Leaving the command to MacWhirlie he started for the mansion with Blythe and True. The old Dutch clock in the hall rang out the hour of four as they entered the chamber window by the Virginia creeper that covered the side of the house. Night was beginning to yield before the advance of coming day, "And now Aurora, daughter of the Dawn, With rosy lustre purpled o'er the lawn."