Yet she did not give way to despair, for she knew that her servants were many and faithful. “I will wait patiently,” she whispered to herself. “It cannot be long, for Creeping Shadow will not forget what I told her—will not fail to come to my help.” [Illustration] CHAPTER II Creeping Shadow bore constantly in mind the parting words of her mistress, and when she had waited patiently until many hours had passed and still the Shadow Witch did not return, she knew the time had come to go in search of her. Saying nothing to her fellow-servants of her errand, she set out without further delay. As she went through the garden and out into the dim stretches of the Land of Shadows, she kept careful watch, that she might not overlook her dear mistress, in case she should be approaching on her homeward way. She reached the Plain of Ash and stood for a moment to scan it far and wide. Only the grey expanse, dotted with low hills and mounds of ash lay before her. Not a living creature moved upon its surface. Sure then that mischief had indeed befallen the Shadow Witch, she sped away across the Plain, and with an anxiously beating heart arrived at the entrance to the Cave of Darkness. She plunged into it. In the long corridor that led to the Cave Hall, she met, from time to time, Imps coming and going upon their master’s business, and she hoped that they might give her some news of her mistress. “Tell me,” she cried to one, “Is my mistress, the Shadow Witch still in the Cave?” But the Imp laughed jeeringly in her face and disappeared, making no answer. A second servant of the Wizard passed her, and when she asked him the same question, he gave her an impertinent reply and vanished also. More uneasy, then, than ever, because of their behavior, she went on her way in silence and came to the great Cave Hall. Never before had she entered it alone. In a huge chair, near to the farther wall, she saw the Wizard sitting. His shaggy brows were bent over a Book of Craft, wherein were written all those ancient and cruel spells in which he most delighted. An evil vapor floated from the pages of the book and, circling round his head, half hid his grim face and dingy beard. It crept along the folds of his black garments and settled slowly about his feet, veiling them in a yellow mist. The Shadow beheld him with dread. She feared to speak with him. But one whom she loved was in danger. Without making a sound, she drew nearer until she stood directly before him. “Sir Wizard,” she cried, “I come to seek my mistress.” Her voice, echoing through the silent Cave Hall, roused the Wizard from his evil studies. He threw back his head in angry astonishment. “You Shadows grow impudent,” he exclaimed frowning. “Who has given you leave to intrude upon me in my Cave?”