part of it all. The baroness thanked Providence, and Hilda thought it
was all due to her love for Greif. Perhaps they were all three right,
and possibly each shared in some measure the views of the other two. At
least so far as the gnomes are concerned, most people who have lived
long in forests and solitary places have discovered that their work, if
they like it, is performed with a rapidity and skill which is
marvellous in their own eyes, and if you do not call the little
gentleman who comes at night and helps you by the name of Rubezahl, you
may call him the Spirit of Peace. But as long as you receive him kindly
and give him his due it matters very little how you christen him, for
he is an affectionate spirit and loves those who love him for himself,
and does their work for them, or makes them think he does, which, in
fact, is just the same.

Unfortunately there are other spirits as busy as he in the world, and
he has a way of taking himself off at the slightest alarm, which is
often very distressing to those who love him; and some of those other
spirits had chosen for their abode the Castle of Greifenstein and for
their companions the persons who dwelt there. The unforeseen plays a
very great part in our lives; for if it did not, we should most of us
know exactly what to do at the right moment, and should consequently
approach perfection at an unnatural rate. While Greif and his father
were slowly ascending the hill towards their home, while Frau von
Greifenstein was looking at herself in her mirror and wondering whether
she had not thrown away her youth after all, while Berbel was weaving
and Hilda embroidering and the old baroness stitching steadily along
the folded linen--while all these people were thus quietly and
peaceably engaged, an event was brewing which was destined to produce
some very remarkable results. And lest the justification of ordinary
possibility should be required by the sceptical hereafter, I will at