"Not yet, dark Hecate," replied Ceres. "Will you first come with your
torch and help me to seek for my child. When there is no more hope
of finding her, then I will come back with you to your dark cave. But
till I know that Proserpina is dead, I will not allow myself time to
sorrow."

Hecate did not much like the idea of going abroad into the sunshine,
but at last she agreed to go, and they set out together, each carrying
a torch, although it was broad daylight and the sun was shining. Any
people they met ran away without waiting to be spoken to, as soon as
they caught sight of Hecate's wreath of snakes.

As the sad pair wandered on, a thought struck Ceres. "There is one
person," she exclaimed, "who must have seen my child and can tell
me what has become of her. Why did I not think of him sooner? It is
Phoebus."

"What!" said Hecate, "the youth that always sits in the sunshine! Oh!
pray do not think of going near him: he is a gay young fellow that
will only smile in your face. And, besides, there is such a glare of
sunshine about him that he will quite blind my poor eyes, which are
weak with so much weeping."

"You have promised to be my companion," answered Ceres. "Come, let us
make haste, or the sunshine will be gone and Phoebus along with it."

So they set off in search of Phoebus, both sighing a great deal,
and after a long journey they came to the sunniest spot in the whole
world. There they saw a young man with curly golden hair which seemed