the fear off me. I have been very ill since then. Did you come up out
of the river when you saw me cross?"

"I don't live in the water," she answered. "I live under the pale
lamp, and I die under the bright one."

"Ah, yes! I understand now," he returned. "I would not have behaved as
I did last time if I had understood; but I thought you were mocking
me; and I am so made that I cannot help being frightened at the
darkness. I beg your pardon for leaving you as I did, for, as I say, I
did not understand. Now I believe you were really frightened. Were
you not?"

"I was, indeed," answered Nycteris, "and shall be again. But why you
should be, I cannot in the least understand. You must know how gentle
and sweet the darkness is, how kind and friendly, how soft and
velvety! It holds you to its bosom and loves you. A little while ago,
I lay faint and dying under your hot lamp.--What is it you call it?"

"The sun," murmured Photogen: "how I wish he would make haste!"

"Ah! do not wish that. Do not, for my sake, hurry him. I can take care
of you from the darkness, but I have no one to take care of me from
the light.--As I was telling you, I lay dying in the sun. All at once
I drew a deep breath. A cool wind came and ran over my face. I looked
up. The torture was gone, for the death-lamp itself was gone. I hope
he does not die and grow brighter yet. My terrible headache was all
gone, and my sight was come back. I felt as if I were new made. But I
did not get up at once, for I was tired still. The grass grew cool
about me, and turned soft in colour. Something wet came upon it, and