As Lilybell came to this pleasant place, she wondered if there was a fairy party going on, for the birds were singing, the flowers dancing, and the old rock looked very gay. When they saw her, the birds stopped, and the columbines stood so still that she heard a voice singing sadly,--
"Bright shines the summer sun, Soft is the summer air, Gayly the wood-birds sing, Flowers are blooming fair. But deep in the dark, cold rock All alone must I dwell, Longing for you, dear friend, Lilybell, Lilybell!"
"Where are you?" cried the other fairy, flying up among the columbines; for she could see no opening in the rock, and wondered where the voice came from. No one replied, for Thistle did not hear her, so she sang her answer to his call,--
"Through sunshine and shower I have looked for you long, Guided by bird and flower, And now by your song, Thistledown! Thistledown! O'er wood, hill, and dell Hither to comfort you Comes Lilybell."
Then through the narrow opening two arms were stretched out to her, and all the columbines danced for joy that Thistle was found.
Lilybell made her home there, and did all she could to cheer the poor prisoner, glad to see that he was sorry for his naughtiness, and really trying to be good. But he pined so to come out that she could not bear it, and said she would go and ask the Brownies what he could do to be free.
Thistle waited and waited, but she did not come back, and he cried and called so pitifully that the Brownies came at last and took him out, saying,--
"Lilybell is safe, but she is in a magic sleep, and will not wake till you bring us a golden wand from the earth elves, a cloak of sunshine from the air spirits, and a crown of diamonds from the water fairies. It is a hard task, for you have no friends to help you along. But if you love Lilybell enough to be patient, brave, and kind, you may succeed, and she will wake to reward you when you bring the fairy gifts."
As they said this, the Brownies led him to a green tent made of tall ferns, and inside on a bed of moss lay Lilybell fast asleep, like the Beauty in the dear old story.
"I will do it," said Thistle, and spreading the wings that had been idle so long, he was off like a humming-bird.
"Flowers know most about the earth elves, so I will ask them," he thought, and began to ask every clover and buttercup, wood-violet, and wayside dandelion that he met. But no one would answer him; all shrunk away and drew their curtains close, remembering his rough treatment before.