turned on my
elbow, and watched the waving of her throat: and the singing of all
the poets I had ever heard, and of many others too, not born till
years long after I was dead, floated all about me as she sang, and I
did indeed dream happily.

When I awoke it was the time of the cold dawn, and the colours were
gathering themselves together, whereat in fatherly approving fashion
the sun sent all across the east long bars of scarlet and orange that
after faded through yellow to green and blue. And she sat by me still;
I think she had been sitting there and singing all the time; all
through hot yesterday, for I had been sleeping day-long and
night-long, all through the falling evening under moonlight and
starlight the night through.

And now it was dawn, and I think too that neither of us had moved at
all; for the last thing I remembered before I went to sleep was the
tips of her fingers brushing my cheek, as she knelt over me with
downdrooping arm, and still now I felt them there. Moreover she was
just finishing some fainting measure that died before it had time to
get painful in its passion.

Dear Lord! how I loved her! Yet did I not dare to touch her, or even
speak to her. She smiled with delight when she saw I was awake again,
and slid down her hand on to mine, but some shuddering dread made me
draw it away again hurriedly; then I saw the smile leave her face:
what would I not have given for courage to hold her body quite tight
to mine? But I was so weak.

She said:

"Have you been very happy?"

"Yea," I said.

It was the first word I had spoken there, and my voice sounded
strange.

"Ah!" she said, "you will talk more when you get used to the air of
the Hollow Land. Have you been thinking of your past life at all? If
not, try to think of it. What thing in Heaven or Earth do you Wish for
most?"

Still I said no word; but she said in a wearied way: "Well now, I
think you will be strong enough to get to your feet and walk; take my
hand and try." Therewith she held it out: I strove hard to be brave
enough to take it, but could not; I only turned away shuddering, sick,
and grieved to the heart's core of me; then struggling hard with hand
and knee and elbow, I scarce rose, and stood up totteringly; while she
watched me sadly, still holding out her hand.

But as I rose, in my swinging to and fro the steel sheath of my sword
struck her on the hand so that the blood flowed from it, which she
stood looking at for