By and by, Rosamond found herself in the midst of a peat-moss—­a flat, lonely, dismal, black country.  She thought, however, that the road would soon lead her across to the other side of it among the farms, and went on without anxiety.  But the stream, which had hitherto been her guide, had now vanished; and when it began to grow dark, Rosamond found that she could no longer distinguish the track.  She turned, therefore, but only to find that the same darkness covered it behind as well as before.  Still she made the attempt to go back by keeping as direct a line as she could, for the path was straight as an arrow.  But she could not see enough even to start her in a line, and she had not gone far before she found herself hemmed in, apparently on every side, by ditches and pools of black, dismal, slimy water.  And now it was so dark that she could see nothing more than the gleam of a bit of clear sky now and then in the water.  Again and again she stepped knee-deep in black mud, and once tumbled down in the shallow edge of a terrible pool; after which she gave up the attempt to escape the meshes of the watery net, stood still, and began to cry bitterly, despairingly.  She saw now that her unreasonable anger had made her foolish as well as rude, and felt that she was justly punished for her wickedness to the poor woman who had been so friendly to her.  What would Prince think of her, if he knew?  She cast herself on the ground, hungry, and cold, and weary.

Presently, she thought she saw long creatures come heaving out of the black pools.  A toad jumped upon her, and she shrieked, and sprang to her feet, and would have run away headlong, when she spied in the distance a faint glimmer.  She thought it was a Will-o’- the-wisp.  What could he be after?  Was he looking for her?  She dared not run, lest he should see and pounce upon her.  The light came nearer, and grew brighter and larger.  Plainly, the little fiend was looking for her—­he would torment her.  After many twistings and turnings among the pools, it came straight towards her, and she would have shrieked, but that terror made her dumb.

It came nearer and nearer, and lo! it was borne by a dark figure, with a burden on its back:  it was the poor woman, and no demon, that was looking for her!  She gave a scream of joy, fell down weeping at her feet, and clasped her knees.  Then the poor woman threw away her burden, laid down her lantern, took the princess up in her arms, folded her cloak around her, and having taken up her lantern again, carried her slowly and carefully through the midst of the black pools, winding hither and thither.  All night long she carried her thus, slowly and wearily, until at length the darkness grew a little thinner, an uncertain hint of light came from the east, and the poor woman, stopping on the brow of a little hill, opened her cloak, and set the princess down.

“I can carry you no farther,” she said.  “Sit there on the grass till the light comes.  I will stand here by you.”