om her lofty
place espied a coming terror. The light seemed to be dissolving out of
her; she was dying--she was going out! And yet everything around looked
strangely clear--clearer than ever she had seen anything before: how
could the lamp be shedding more light when she herself had less? Ah,
that was just it! See how faint she looked! It was because the light was
forsaking her, and spreading itself over the room, that she grew so thin
and pale. She was melting away from the roof like a bit of sugar in
water.

Nycteris was fast growing afraid, and sought refuge with the face upon
her lap. How beautiful the creature was!--what to call it she could not
think, for it had been angry when she called it what Watho called her.
And, wonder upon wonder! now, even in the cold change that was passing
upon the great room, the color as of a red rose was rising in the wan
cheek. What beautiful yellow hair it was that spread over her lap! What
great huge breaths the creature took! And what were those curious things
it carried? She had seen them on her walls, she was sure.

Thus she talked to herself while the lamp grew paler and paler, and
everything kept growing yet clearer. What could it mean? The lamp was
dying--going out into the other place of which the creature in her lap
had spoken, to be a sun! But why were the things growing clearer before
it was yet a sun? That was the point. Was it her growing into a sun that
did it? Yes! yes! it was coming death! She knew it, for it was coming
upon her also! She felt it coming! What was she about to grow into?
Something beautiful, like the creature in her lap? It might be! Anyhow,
it must be death; for all her strength was going out of her, while all
around her was growing so light she could not bear it!

Photogen woke, lifted his head from her lap, and sprang to his feet. His
face was one radiant smile. His heart was full of daring. Nycteris gave
a cry, covered her face with her hands, and pressed her eyelids close.
Then blindly she stretched out her arms to Photogen, crying, "Oh, I am
so frightened! What is this? It must be death! I don't wish to die yet.
I love this room and the old lamp. I do not want the other place! This
is terrible!"

"What is the matter with you, girl?" said Photogen. "There is no fear of
anything now, child. It is day. The sun is all but up. Good-by. Thank
you for my night's lodging. I'm off. Don't be a goose. If ever I can do
anything for you--and all that, y