As he got to his feet, he saw that the spring was receding rapidly back into the ground. With a strangled cry the sylph reappeared, recklessly dashing past him to the spring and clawing frantically at the vanishing water which was now no more than a small, shallow pool. With horror Anest realised that without the spring, the sylph would soon die, for it was the very source of her life.
"Anest! What the devil is going on?" cried Pip, who had come from the stables to investigate. "Did you feel the ground shake?"
"Quickly," shouted Anest, "Go into the house and fetch me a glass phial such as Belloc uses for potions. Hurry!" Pip responded with alacrity, and in a moment returned with a phial.
Cursing his hands which seemed to be all thumbs, Anest fumbled it open and filled it with some of the remaining spring water. He tried casting a spell, but to no avail! The sylph lay unconscious in the mud now, her breathing becoming shallower with each fading heartbeat. In desperation he tried an ancient spell of preservation, one of protection, and another of life, drawing from memory that which he had memorized, but had little or no real comprehension of.
In response the waters caught in the phial began to glow, dimly at first, then gradually brightening until they sparkled like a bright afternoon sun on rippling water. And the sylph's breathing steadied. In a moment her eyes fluttered open. She sat up. And stared fearfully about her as Caspar, Mullen, and Burli came around the house with several of the dogs.