Then she slipped a cool, soft set of fingers into his, and led him
onward, with sure and certain steps, while he blundered, not knowing
where to put his feet, and all the time she turned every few seconds and
looked at him, and he could just distinguish the soft mystery of her
eyes, while now and then, as she walked, a tendril of her floating hair
flew out and caressed his face, as once before, long ago.
"There are fairy things all about us," she said. "Countless pink
campions and buttercups, with an elf in each. They will feel your giant
feet, but they will know you are a mortal and cannot help your ways,
because, you poor, blind bat, you cannot see!"
"And you?" he asked. "Who gave you these eyes?"
"My mother," she answered softly, "the Goddess of the Night."
And then she drew him on rapidly and stealthily, and he saw at last, in
the open space where the stars and the sinking moon gave more light,
that they were approaching the broken gate, and were near the terraced
garden, which now was better kept.
When they got to this barrier to their path, Halcyone paused and leaned
upon it.
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