"No," replied Nya, "thou lovest no man, and therefore the riddle is hard,"
but as she spoke her eyes fell upon Rachel.
"Mother," said Rachel presently, "my heart is the hungrier for all that it
has fed upon. Can thy magic send me back to that country of the dead that
I may search for him again? If so, for his sake I will dare the journey."
"Not so," answered Nya shaking her head; "it is a road that very few have
travelled, and none may travel twice and live."
Now Rachel began to weep.
"Weep not, Maiden, there are other roads and perchance to-morrow thou
shall walk them. Now lie down and sleep, both of you, and fear no dreams."
So they laid themselves down and slept, but the old witch-wife, Nya, sat
waiting and watched them.
"I think I understand," she murmured to herself, as She gazed at the
slumbering Rachel, "for to her who is so pure and good, and who has
suffered such cruel wrong, the Guardians would not lie. I think that I
understand and that I can find a path. Sleep on, sweet maiden, sleep on in
hope."
Then she looked at Noie and shook her grey head.
"I do not understand," she muttered. "The black tree shaped like the Tree
of our Tribe, and Seyapi of the old blood seated beneath it. The tree that
went up in fire, and the maid of the old blood left alone with the ghost
of it, while the dwarf people fled into light and freedom.
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