“But how is it you don’t get burnt up?” asked Jack.
“Burnt up!” said the little man, scornfully; “why, we breathe fire and live in it; we should go out at once if we weren’t surrounded by it.”
“Go out! What do you mean by going out. Do you mean that you’d die?”
“I don’t know about dying,” said the little man, “but of course, without care, one is liable to go out. But don’t let’s talk of unpleasant subjects.”
“But do you mean that you live forever?” asked Jack.
“With proper care there is no reason why one should go out after one is three hundred years old,” said the little man, settling himself comfortably into a corner of burning coals. “Before that age we are very delicate, and the least wind is dangerous.”
“But where do you live—where do you come from?” asked Jack.
“We live in the very middle of the earth, where there is always a nice comfortable fire; but when you have fires alight up here, we have to come up and attend to them.”
“Then do you come to lamps and candles as well?” said Jack, “for they are fire.”
“We leave that to the young folks,” said the little man, with a yawn; “I never come up for anything less than a coal fire.”
Jack was silent for a little; then he said—
“I wonder I never saw you before.”
“I have always been there; so it has been only your own stupidity,” said the gnome.
“I wish I could get into the fire with you,” said Jack; “I should so much like to see what it’s like.”
“You couldn’t come without a proper dress,” said the tiny man, “and even then I am afraid you’d find it warm.”
“I shouldn’t mind that,” said Jack. “And in your own home, where you live, is it quite red and bright, like the middle of a fire?”
“It’s a great deal better. Ah, that is worth seeing!” said the fairy, thrusting one arm over a burning coal, and skilfully balancing himself in a little jet of flame. “All round the palace where our King lives there’s flame—flame—nothing but flame for miles, and the Princess’s windows look on to burning hills. Ah, what a pity it is people are so discontented! If there is anyone who ought to be happy, it’s the Princess Pyra.”
“Isn’t she happy?” asked Jack.
“Don’t be so inquisitive. She might be, if she liked.”
“Then why isn’t she?”
“It all came of sending her to school,” said the little man, gravely. “If she’d never left her father’s palace she would never have seen him. You must know that our King and Queen have only one daughter, Princess Pyra, and of course they are very proud of her, and wished her to make a good match. A fire King, whose country is close to ours, proposed for her, and her father and mother settled that they would accept him; but as she was very young, and they wished her to be well educated, they sent her to school for a year in a burning mountain, thinking it would give her a chance of seeing more of the world than if she always remained at home. But, as it turned out, it was a great mistake, for one day the water King’s son, Prince Fluvius, came and looked over the top of the mountain, and saw our Princess; and they fell in love with each other, and the Princess has never been happy since.”
“Why can’t they be married?” asked Jack.
The little man burst into a roar of laughter.
“Why, you ought to know that it’s impossible. In the first place, they can’t go near each other, lest he should be dried up, or she should be put out. Besides which, our King would never hear of such a thing, as the water King is his bitterest enemy. Every evening after she first saw him, the Princess used to come to the top of the mountain, and the Prince came and sat a little way off, and then they talked together. Ah! the King little thought what mischief was brewing. But when he discovered her one evening, when he came to see her, sitting talking to Prince Fluvius, he was in a rage. He took her home at once, and was anxious to marry her to the fire Prince out of hand. But she grew so thin that the doctors said they feared if she were much excited she would go out altogether. It’s a great pity she should be so silly.”
“Is she pretty?” asked Jack.
“Pretty? Pretty’s no word for her. She is lovely—beautiful! She is much the loveliest woman in Fireland, and she’s wonderfully clever as well.”
“Little man,” said Jack, coaxingly, “take me with you, and show me your home. I would never tell anyone, and it’s so dull here. Do let me go with you.”
“I don’t see how it can be done,” answered the little man. “Besides, you’d be frightened.”
“I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t, indeed,” said Jack. “Only try me, and see.”
“Wait a minute, then;” and the little red figure disappeared into the brightest part of the fire. In a few seconds he appeared again, carrying a little red cap, and suit, and boots.
“Put on these,” he said, throwing them into Jack’s lap.
“How ever shall I get them on? Why, they’re not as long as my arm.” But no sooner had he touched them than he found himself growing smaller and smaller, until the clothes seemed quite the right size for him, and he easily slipped into them.
“Now take this,” said the red man, and threw him a thin shining glass mask. Jack drew it over his face. It fitted exactly, and left
