Aurora, the mother of Photogen, and if they grew darker as she grew
older, it was only a darker blue. Watho, with the help of Falca, took
the greatest possible care of her--in every way consistent with her
plans, that is,--the main point in which was that she should never see
any light but what came from the lamp. Hence her optic nerves, and
indeed her whole apparatus for seeing, grew both larger and more
sensitive; her eyes, indeed, stopped short only of being too large.
Under her dark hair and forehead and eyebrows, they looked like two
breaks in a cloudy night-sky, through which peeped the heaven where
the stars and no clouds live. She was a sadly dainty little creature.
No one in the world except those two was aware of the being of the
little bat. Watho trained her to sleep during the day, and wake during
the night. She taught her music, in which she was herself a
proficient, and taught her scarcely anything else.




CHAPTER VI.

HOW PHOTOGEN GREW.


The hollow in which the castle of Watho lay, was a cleft in a plain
rather than a valley among hills, for at the top of its steep sides,
both north and south, was a table-land, large and wide. It was covered
with rich grass and flowers, with here and there a wood, the outlying
colony of a great forest. These grassy plains were the finest hunting
grounds in the world. Great herds of small, but fierce cattle, with
humps and shaggy manes, roved about them, also antelopes and gnus, and