Before long they came to the great oak-tree in which the Dryad had lived, and, at a distance, they saw that beautiful creature herself coming toward them.

“How excellently well every thing happens!” said the dwarf.  “Put me down, and I will go.  Your business with the Dryad is more important than mine; and you need not say any thing about my having suggested your plan to you.  I am willing that you should have all the credit of it yourself.”

Old Pipes put the Echo-dwarf upon the ground, but the little rogue did not go away.  He concealed himself between some low, mossy rocks, and he was so much of their color that you would not have noticed him if you had been looking straight at him.

When the Dryad came up, Old Pipes lost no time in telling her about his mother, and what he wished her to do.  At first, the Dryad answered nothing, but stood looking very sadly at Old Pipes.

“Do you really wish me to go into my tree again?” she said.  “I should dreadfully dislike to do it, for I don’t know what might happen.  It is not at all necessary, for I could make your mother younger at any time if she would give me the opportunity.  I had already thought of making you still happier in this way, and several times I have waited about your cottage, hoping to meet your aged mother, but she never comes outside, and you know a Dryad cannot enter a house.  I cannot imagine what put this idea into your head.  Did you think of it yourself?”

“No, I cannot say that I did,” answered Old Pipes.  “A little dwarf whom I met in the woods proposed it to me.”

“Oh!” cried the Dryad; “now I see through it all.  It is the scheme of that vile Echo-dwarf—­your enemy and mine.  Where is he?  I should like to see him.”

“I think he has gone away,” said Old Pipes.

“No he has not,” said the Dryad, whose quick eyes perceived the Echo-dwarf among the rocks.  “There he is.  Seize him and drag him out, I beg of you.”

Old Pipes perceived the dwarf as soon as he was pointed out to him, and, running to the rocks, he caught the little fellow by the arm and pulled him out.

“Now, then,” cried the Dryad, who had opened the door of the great oak, “just stick him in there, and we will shut him up.  Then I shall be safe from his mischief for the rest of the time I am free.”

Old Pipes thrust the Echo-dwarf into the tree; the Dryad pushed the door shut; there was a clicking sound of bark and wood, and no one would have noticed that the big oak had ever had an opening in it.

“There,” said the Dryad; “now we need not be afraid of him.  And I assure you, my good piper, that I shall be very glad to make your mother younger as soon as I can.  Will you not ask her to come out and meet me?”

“Of course I will,” cried Old Pipes; “and I will do it without delay.”