In this manner a very long time passed away, and Harold, who had never sat up so late before in his life, began to get uncommonly sleepy. But still Hilda and Tom did not return; and Harold knew that, if he were to lie down and take a nap, the enchanted fire might go out before he waked up again; and, as Tom had warned him, once out it could never be rekindled. Moreover, Rumpty-Dudget would then be able to steal the fire-blackened logs and blacken poor Hector's face all over with them, so that he never could be saved. Therefore Harold kept himself awake, partly by sitting on a pine-needle which he had found stuck in the moss cushion, and partly by putting fresh faggots into the flame, which went on burning blue, yellow, and red.
But another very long time passed away, and the sound of Rumpty-Dudget's axe sounded nearer, and the forest was dark and full of mystery, and there was no sign yet of Hilda and the cat. 'I never knew before,' said Harold to himself, 'that a night was so much longer than a day. I always thought they were a great deal shorter, But then I have no Fairy Aunt now to come and whisper pleasant stories into my ear. Heigho! well, I suppose I must put on another faggot.' And he got up to fetch one.
Much to his consternation, however, he found that there was now only a single faggot left of all those that he and Hilda had gathered together.
He was really frightened at this, and knew not what to do; for this last faggot would soon be burnt up, and then what was to be done to keep the enchanted fire going? He made a careful search inside the ring, and satisfied himself that there was not so much as another chip to be found there; and Tom had told him that if he went outside the ring all would be lost.
However, the last faggot was not gone yet, and in order to make it last as long as possible Harold took it apart and put only one stick at a time on the fire; but it was alarming to see how quickly the flame ate up one after another, and seemed hungrier than ever. After a while all but the last stick was gone. A little while more and that had to be put in too. And then Prince Harold sat down quite in despair and cried with all his might. He was at the end of everything, and at his wit's end too.