The strip of beach he stood upon was quite shallow, so that his feet almost touched the deep dark water. In the middle of the tiny lake that filled this wonderful grotto hung a bell, also green and wondrously shining; and although the rest of the water was absolutely calm, strong short waves rose from the centre and hit against the bell, bringing forth the deep boom that had first lured Eric into this magic hall. Straight across the dark water a narrow bridge was stretched, both sides resting on the tinted sand, passing in the middle quite near to the calling bell. The bridge was but a yielding plank, a hand's-breadth wide, overgrown with slippery, dripping moss as green as grass on a spring day when the sun shines over it. The bell gave out weird sounds, sometimes like a cautioning voice warning him against some danger--then again it was full of love and entreaty, containing an endless promise of joy and sweetness. But Eric was too young and happy to hear within its notes anything but entrancing melodies existing solely to delight his ears. Unhesitatingly he stepped on to the swaying board, upon which he could only advance by carefully putting one foot before the other, almost like balancing himself on a tight-rope. This gave him great joy, and his merry laugh echoed round the green walls as if he were joking with gay comrades. An immense curiosity was upon him to look at the bell from near, and to see what lay on the other side of the dark lake. He had the intuition that something still more surprising was hidden not far off. The slippery plank dipped beneath his weight; he could hardly keep his footing on the slimy moss that clung to it. But Eric was nimble, young, and daring; besides, he could swim like a fish, and was absolutely fearless. The depth beneath him seemed bottomless; only now and again his eyes distinguished shadowy forms moving about, but what they were he could not see. Now he was close to the bell, and the little waves were striking it on all sides, making its tones so varied as to become a bewitching song of penetrating sweetness. Eric bent his ear down to the bell, which was whispering something to him under cover of the appealing notes,--but he did not understand, he only laughed and stroked the bell, quite heedless of the repeated warning that once again came from the depths of the lake. He stood up on the quivering footway, and in answer to the old bell's voice he raised his own, clear and ringing, within which lay all the joy and gladness of an untouched heart and an unsoiled life, pure, crystalline, like the voice of an angel. Stronger and stronger came the floods of melody; all round the green sides the glad notes resounded like a thousand answers, responding to the boundless life-joy that this human voice contained. Again he bent to the old bell and touched it with both hands; then hurried on over the perilous bridge, eager to reach the other side and to see what lay beyond.