he top, not far from
the point where Amroth had greeted me after the ascent, I saw a little
steep path, which wound itself down into the gulleys and chimneys of the
black rocks. I took it without hesitation, and though again and again it
seemed to come to an end in front of me, I found that it could be traced
and followed without serious difficulty. The descent was accomplished
with a singular rapidity, and I marvelled to find myself at the
crag-base in so brief a time, considering the intolerable tedium of the
ascent. I rapidly crossed the intervening valley, and was very soon at
the gate of the careless land. To my intense joy, and not at all to my
surprise, I found Cynthia at the gate itself, waiting for me with a
look of expectancy. She came forwards, and threw herself passionately
into my arms, murmuring words of delight and welcome, like a child.

"I knew you would come," she said. "I am frightened--all sorts of
dreadful things have happened. I have found out where I am--and I seem
to have lost all my friends. Charmides is gone, and Lucius is cruel to
me--he tells me that I have lost my spirits and my good looks, and am
tiresome company."

I looked at her--she was paler and frailer-looking than when I left her;
and she was habited very differently, in simpler and graver dress. But
she was to my eyes infinitely more beautiful and dearer, and I told her
so. She smiled at that, but half tearfully; and we seated ourselves on a
bench hard by, looking over the garden, which was strangely and
luxuriantly beautiful.

"You must take me away with you at once," she said. "I cannot live here
without you. I thought at first, when you went, that it was rather a
relief not to have your grave face at my shoulder,"--here she took my
face in her hands--"always reminding me of something I did not want, and
ought to have wanted--but oh, how I began to miss you! and then I got so
tired of this silly, lazy place, and all the music and jokes and
compliments. But I am a worthless creature, and not good for anything. I
cannot work, and I hate being idle. Take me anywhere, _make_ me do
something, beat me if you like, only force me to be different from what
I am."

"Very well," I said. "I will give you a good beating presently, of
course, but just let me consider what will hurt you most, silly child!"

"That is it," she said. "I want to be hurt and bruised, and shaken as my
nurse used to shake me, when I was a naughty child. Oh dear, o