"Oh, no, thank you!" cried Hulda, hastily, "I must not do so. This ring is my mother's, and was left her by my grandmother." The pedlar looked disappointed. However, he put the ring down, and said, "But if my young lady has no money, perhaps she has some old trinkets or toys that she would not mind parting with--a coral and bells, or a silver mug, or a necklace, or, in short, anything that she keeps put away, and that is of no use to her?" "No," said the little girl, "I don't think I have got anything of the kind. Oh, yes! to be sure, I have got somewhere up-stairs a little gold wand, which I was told not to give away; but I'm afraid she who gave it me must have been dead a long while, and it is of no use keeping it any longer." Now this pedlar was the fairy's enemy. He had long suspected that the wand must be concealed somewhere in that region, and near the sea, and he had disguised himself, and gone out wandering among the farmhouses and huts and castles to try if he could hear some tidings of it, and get it if possible into his power. The moment he heard Hulda mention her gold wand, he became excessively anxious to see it. He was a gnome, and when his malicious eyes gleamed with delight they shot out a burning ray, which scorched the hound who was lying asleep close at hand, and he sprang up and barked at him. "Peace, peace, Rhan!" cried little Hulda; "lie down, you unmannerly hound!" The dog shrank back again growling, and the pedlar said in a careless tone to Hulda: "Well, lady, I have no objection just to look at the little gold wand, and see if it is worth anything." "But I am not sure that I could part with it," said Hulda. "Very well," replied the pedlar, "as you please; but I may as well look at it. I should hope these beautiful things need not go begging." As he spoke he began carefully to lock up some of the jewels in their little boxes, as if he meant to go away. "Oh, don't go," cried Hulda. "I am going upstairs to fetch my wand. I shall not be long; pray wait for me." Nothing was further from the pedlar's thought than to go away, and while little Hulda was running up to look for the wand he panted so hard for fear that after all he might not be able to get it that he woke the other hound, who came up to him, and smelt his leg. "What sort of a creature is this?" said the old hound to his companion, speaking, of course, in the dogs' language. "I'm sure I can't say," answered the other. "I wonder what he is made of,--he smells of mushrooms! quite earthy, I declare! as if he had lived underground all his life." "Let us stand one on each side of him, and watch that he doesn't steal anything."