or that her illness made her yet more of a devil's wife, certainly
Watho now got sick of the girl too, and hated to know her about the
castle.

She was not too ill, however, to go to poor Photogen's room and
torment him. She told him she hated him like a serpent, and hissed
like one as she said it, looking very sharp in the nose and chin, and
flat in the forehead. Photogen thought she meant to kill him, and
hardly ventured to take anything brought him. She ordered every ray of
light to be shut out of his room; but by means of this he got a little
used to the darkness. She would take one of his arrows, and now tickle
him with the feather end of it, now prick him with the point till the
blood ran down. What she meant finally I cannot tell, but she brought
Photogen speedily to the determination of making his escape from the
castle: what he should do then he would think afterwards. Who could
tell but he might find his mother somewhere beyond the forest! If it
were not for the broad patches of darkness that divided day from day,
he would fear nothing!

But now, as he lay helpless in the dark, ever and anon would come
dawning through it the face of the lovely creature who on that first
awful night nursed him so sweetly: was he never to see her again? If
she was, as he had concluded, the nymph of the river, why had she not
re-appeared? She might have taught him not to fear the night, for
plainly she had no fear of it herself! But then, when the day came,
she did seem frightened:--why was that, seeing there was nothing to be
afraid of then? Perhaps one so much at home in the darkness, was
correspondingly afraid of the light! Then his selfish joy at the
rising of the sun, blinding him to her condition, had made him behave
to her, in ill return for her kindness, as cruelly as Watho behaved to