ny.

"Then go on with your story, please," said Diamond. "What did you come
to, after going through all those winding passages into the heart of the
moon?"

"I didn't say they were winding passages. I said they were long and
narrow. They didn't wind. They went by corners."

"That's worth knowing," remarked Diamond. "For who knows how soon he may
have to go there? But the main thing is, what did you come to at last?"

"We came to a small box against the wall of a tiny room. The little man
told me to put my ear against it. I did so, and heard a noise something
like the purring of a cat, only not so loud, and much sweeter. `What is
it?' I asked. `Don't you know the sound?' returned the little man. `No,'
I answered. `Don't you know the sound of bees?' he said. I had never
heard bees, and could not know the sound of them. `Those are my lady's
bees,' he went on. I had heard that bees gather honey from the flowers.
`But where are the flowers for them?' I asked. `My lady's bees gather
their honey from the sun and the stars,' said the little man. `Do let
me see them,' I said. `No. I daren't do that,' he answered. `I have no
business with them. I don't understand them. Besides, they are so bright
that if one were to fly into your eye, it would blind you altogether.'
`Then you have seen them?' `Oh, yes! Once or twice, I think. But I don't
quite know: they are so very bright--like buttons of lightning. Now
I've showed you all I can to-night, and we'll go back to the room.' I
followed him, and he made me sit down under a lamp that hung from the
roof, and gave me some bread and honey.

"The lady had never moved. She sat with her forehead leaning on her
hand, gazing out of the little window, hung like the rest with white
cloudy curtains. From where I was sitting I looked out of it too, but I
could see nothing. Her face was very beautiful, and very white, and very
still, and her hand was as white as the forehead that leaned on it. I
did not see her whole face--only the side of it, for she never moved to
turn it full upon me, or even to look at me.

"How long I sat after I had eaten my bread and honey, I don't know. The
little man was busy about the room, pulling a string here, and a string
there, but chiefly the string at the back of the door. I was thinking
with some uneasiness that he would soon be wanting me to go out and
clean the windows, and I didn't fancy the job. At last he came up to me
with a great armful of dusters. `I