"You have invaded my kingdom.
Mortal, what right have you to the things of the night?
They belong to me--who know them and love them." "Then have compassion upon me, sweet dryad!" he pleaded, "who am but a pilgrim who cannot see his way.

Let me shelter under your protection and be guided aright." She laughed again--a ripple of silver that he had not guessed her voice possessed.

Her whole bearing was changed from the reserved, demure and rather timid creature whom he knew.

She was a sprite now, or a nymph, or even a goddess, for her brow was imperious and her mien one of assured command.
"This is my kingdom," she said, "and if you obey me, I will show you things of which you have never dreamed--" and then she came towards the tree and sat upon the high forked branch of the broken bough while she pointed with shadowy finger to the part which was a bench.

"Sit there, Man of Day," she ordered, "for you cannot see beyond your hand.