"Silence!" cried Maria, "they are benefactors, and no vagabonds!" and, binding him by a promise never to divulge aught of what she was about to mention, she related to him the story of her youth, with all the particulars of the elfin regions. As he continued incredulous, she led him to the arbour, where he saw the elf caressing his child. On his approach Zerina grew pale, and trembled exceedingly, and lifted her finger in a threatening manner at Maria, no longer smiling as before. "It is not your fault," said she to the child, "but I must leave you for ever;" and embracing Elfrida, she flew in the form of a raven, with most discordant shrieks, towards the fir-plantation. The little child silently kissed her rose, and wept incessantly; Andrew spoke little. At length night came on: the trees moaned as the blast swept by, the owls whooped mournfully, the thunder boomed along the sky, and the earth rocked violently. Maria and Andrew lay trembling with fear, and endeavouring to shut out all the fury of the storm, and the roar of the thunder from their thoughts. How eagerly did they long for the morning! At length day dawned, and the sun shone forth again. Andrew dressed himself hastily, and, opening his door, looked forth on the scene around him. What a change was there!--the prospect could not even be recognised; the verdant freshness of the wood was gone, the hill had sunk into the ground, the stream wound slowly on, with scarce a sufficient depth of water to cover its channel; the sky wore a grey gloomy hue, and the fir-trees, that had ever been so unusually dark, wore the same appearance as the rest of the vegetation. Maria looked at her ring, the gift of the elf, and saw that the stone was of a strange palish colour, having lost all its fire and brilliancy.