open doorway, and she looked at me for a long time with such a
steady piercing glance that I felt as if her eyes were boring
through my flesh. Then she got up from her spinning and pushed away
the wheel, and stretched out both her hands towards me, crying out
in quite a strange, wild voice--'Morgana! Morgana! Go your ways,
child begotten of the sun and shower!--go your ways! Little had
mortal father or mother to do with your making, for you are of the
fey folk! Go your ways with your own people!--you shall hear them
whispering in the night and singing in the morning,--and they shall
command you and you shall obey!--they shall beckon and you shall
follow! Nothing of mortal flesh and blood shall hold you--no love
shall bind you,--no hate shall wound you!--the clue is given into
your hand,--the secret is disclosed--and the spirits of air and fire
and water have opened a door that you may enter in! Hark!--I can
hear their voices calling "Morgana! Morgana!" Go your ways, child!--
go hence and far!--the world is too small for your wings!' She
looked so fierce and grand and terrible that I was frightened--I was
only a girl of sixteen, and I ran to my father and caught his hand.
He spoke quite gently to Alison, but she seemed quite beyond herself
and unable to listen. 'Your way lies down a different road, John
Royal'--she said--'You that herded sheep on these hills and that now
hoard millions of money--of what use to you is your wealth? You are
but the worker,--gathering gold for HER--the "fey" child born in an
hour of May moonlight! You must go, but she must stay,--her own folk
have work for her to do!' Then my father said, 'Dear Alison, don't
frighten the child!' and she suddenly changed in her tone and
manner. 'Frighten her?' she muttered. 'I would not frighten her for
the world!' And my father pushed me towards her and whispered--'Ask
her to bless you before you go.' So I just knelt before her,
trembling very much, and said, 'Dear Alison, bless me!'--and she