His bright colors had all faded, but whether in consequence of his journey or of his heartache nobod
y could say. He looked at the little maid and she looked at him, and he felt in quite a melting mood, but still he stood steadfast and shouldered arms.
Then a door opened, the draught caught the d
ancing girl, and she fluttered like a sylph right into the stove to the tin soldier, flashed into a flame, and was gone. The tin soldier at the same time melted into a mere lump of metal, and when the serving-maid next day raked the as
hes out of the grate she found him in the shape of a little tin heart Of the dancing girl, all that remained was the spangle, and that was as black as a cinder.