"Comment alle^vous?" she said again.

I thought she was asking how I was feeling but was unsure.

The woman must have seen the dim light of recognition in my eyes, for she nodded encouragingly and repeated the question.    '

"... regretter..." I stammered, "but I do not... parler Fransk." My accent was probably unrecognizable, for she looked puzzled for a moment but then understood, I think.

"Njorden," I said.

Again she nodded. "Oui, Njord" The girl with the braids appeared beside her mother.

"Maman?"

"Estelle, elle est Njorden,"the mother said to the girl, gesturing to me.

I started to cough again. The mother bustled into the kitchen, bringing a cup that she filled from the kettle resting on the hearth fire. Again I drank some of the sweet honeyed tea.

"Thank you," I said. "Merci."

After several days of tea, and soup, and the kind attentions of the woman, whose name was Sofi, along with her daughter, Estelle, I regained some semblance of strength. At least I was able to sit up on the third day. I was still plagued by coughing, but each bout got a little shorter.

My knowledge of Fransk from childhood and the time I had spent in the castle teaching myself made it possible for me to communicate with Sofi and Estelle, if they spoke slowly. I learned that mother and daughter lived by themselves in the fairly remote part of Fransk, Sofi's husband having died several years before. Sofi had thought about moving to a coastal village where her brother lived, but she loved the countryside too well, as did Estelle.

I was vague about my own circumstances. I did not want the nice woman to think I was a lunatic by speaking of castles in mountains and enchanted bears. Instead I said I had become lost while traveling to visit relatives. I don't know what she made of me, with my tattered

nightdress and small knapsack, but she did not press me with questions.

The girl Estelle was very friendly. She loved to listen to the way I mangled Fransk words and would laugh delightedly before correcting me. On the fourth day Estelle suddenly asked if I came from the forest "hanté par les fantômes." I asked her what that meant. Estelle rose to her feet and put her arms above her head, scrunching her face into a grotesque mask. She stalked about the room, moaning and crying. I stared at her in complete bewilderment. Sofi joined us, laughing.

She tried to explain, saying that Estelle was acting the part of a fantôme.

I was still baffled. I asked if fantôme meant "monster," or "troll."

Sofi shook her head. I realized Estelle thought I had come from a haunted forest, and I asked them to tell me more. Sofi described a very dense wood several days' distance from their cottage. The forest had the reputation of being haunted, she said, because of the unexplained disappearances over the years of several people who had last been seen near there. It was in a very remote part of the country and not many lived in close proximity, but the few who did gave the forest a wide berth.

I honestly don't know what got into me at that moment, but I blurted out that yes, I had come through the forest "hanté," and that I had come there after having lived for nearly a year with an enchanted white bear in a castle in the mountain beyond the forest.

The two of them stared at me without speaking. Uneasily I wondered if Sofi was regretting having taken in a madwoman and was trying to figure out how soon she could send me packing.

Then Estelle burst out, "Maman, c'est l'ours blanc!"

"Oui, oui," Sofi responded distractedly. Sofi then told me that Estelle had come to her a handful of times over the past two or three years, claiming to have seen a white bear loping through a nearby meadow. Sofi had not believed her, thinking Estelle was making it up.

"It is true," I said earnestly. Sofi shook her head in amazement, and I spent the next hour or so telling her what had happened in the castle and of my plan to go in search of the land that lay east of the sun and west of the moon.

"Fantastique," Sofi finally said in a soft voice, but then she added firmly that before I could even think of embarking on any kind of journey, I must first regain my strength and get rid of my cough. And though I was impatient to resume my travels, I knew she was right.

There was a fine, sturdy loom in a corner of the room, with the beginnings of some woven cloth at the bottom, and the next day, because I had no money to repay Sofi for her kindness, I offered to help with their weaving. Sofi said I did not need to repay her at all, but I insisted. So I made my way over to the loom, sat on the small stool, and began to weave.

It felt good to be at a loom again, though at first it brought up memories of the castle. But the loom was much more like the one at home, and so I thought of Neddy and Snurri, and as usual I got lost in the work. When I came to myself I discovered that I had completed a very long length of cloth. Both Sofi and Estelle were beside me, looking at me as if I were a troll with seven heads.

"Magnifique!" Sofi cried. Holding the cloth bunched in her hands, she asked where I had learned to weave. And Estelle piped in that my hands moved so fast, she could barely see them.

I was embarrassed, saying my skill wasn't really anything; it was just that I had begun young. Sofi again shook her head in amazement.

That afternoon Sofi went off to collect kindling and fetch water from the well. She declined my offer to help, saying she'd rather I stay behind and help Estelle prepare the evening meal. We were done quickly, a meat-and-vegetable stew we left simmering in the pot on the hearth fire, and Estelle suggested we play her favorite game. She brought out a wooden board with squares painted on it and a small box of playing pieces. It looked something like hneftafl, a game I had played back home, although there were more pieces for Estelle's game. The little figures were skillfully carved out of wood, with small pieces of amber for the eyes.

Estelle enthusiastically described the rules of the game, which she called echecs. Having done this, however, she quickly lost interest in the actual game and began making up rules of her own and stories about the small figures.

"Father carved the pieces," she said in Fransk, "and I have given each one a name."

She held up one intricate piece, saying, "C'est la grande dame, Queen Maraboo!"

According to Estelle, Queen Maraboo was a very brave young woman who met with many heart-stopping adventures, including vanquishing an impressive array of hideous creatures, among them a troll-witch with twelve heads, a slithery creature called Boneless that stole your bones because he didn't have any, and a ghost-wolf that breathed fire and could only be controlled by singing. My knowledge of Fransk was sorely tested by the tales, but I managed to follow along fairly well and my vocabulary grew.

Estelle played the part of Queen Maraboo, while I was assigned roles that corresponded to the other pieces of the board, either those who served Queen Maraboo or those who were her inept enemies. But when I was assigned the role of the ghost-wolf and my howl fell short of her expectations, Estelle decided that she was tired of playing echecs.

She then began to teach me a clapping game. It was similar to games I had played with my sisters, when they could get me to sit still long enough, but the rhyming song was unfamiliar and difficult for me. This is how it went: