ace, there he was, on the edge of a great hole half
full of water, as if he had been sitting there for an hour! Was he
going to drown her in that hole? She turned again, and ran towards
the descent of the mountain. But there Gibbie feared a certain
precipitous spot; and, besides, there was no path in that direction.
So Ginevra had not run far before again she saw him right in her
way. She threw herself on the ground in despair, and hid her face.
After thus hunting her as a cat might a mouse, or a lion a man,
what could she look for but that he would pounce upon her, and tear
her to pieces? Fearfully expectant of the horrible grasp, she lay
breathless. But nothing came. Still she lay, and still nothing
came. Could it be that she was dreaming? In dreams generally the
hideous thing never arrived. But she dared not look up. She lay
and lay, weary and still, with the terror slowly ebbing away out of
her. At length to her ears came a strange sweet voice of
singing--such a sound as she had never heard before. It seemed to
come from far away: what if it should be an angel God was sending,
in answer after all to her prayer, to deliver her from the
beast-boy! He would of course want some time to come, and certainly
no harm had happened to her yet. The sound grew and grew, and came
nearer and nearer. But although it was song, she could distinguish
no vowel-melody in it, nothing but a tone-melody, a crooning, as it
were, ever upon one vowel in a minor key. It came quite near at
length, and yet even then had something of the far away sound left
in it. It was like the wind of a summer night inside a great church
bell in a deserted tower. It came close, and ceased suddenly, as
if, like a lark, the angel ceased to sing the moment he lighted.
She opened her eyes and looked up. Over her stood the beast-boy,
gazing down upon her! Could it really be the beast-boy? If so,
then he was fascinating her, to devour her the more easily, as she
had read of snakes doing to birds; but she could not believe it.
Still--she could not take her eyes off him--that was certain. But
no marvel! From under a great crown of reddish gold, looked out two
eyes of heaven's own blue, and through the eyes looked out something
that dwells behind the sky and every blue thing. What if the angel,
to try her, had taken to himself the form of the beast-boy? No
beast-boy could sing like what she had heard, or look like what she
now saw! She lay