," 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 can not 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?"

[Illustration: "WHAT IS THIS? IT MUST BE DEATH!"]

"I was, indeed," answered Nycteris, "and shall be again. But why you
should be, I can not 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 color. Something wet came upon it, and it was now so pleasant to
my feet that I rose and ran about. And when I had been running about a
long time, all at once I found you lying, just as I had been lying a
little while before. So I sat down beside you to take care of you, till
your life--and my death--should come again."

"How good you are, you beautiful creature! Why, you forgave me before
ever I asked you!" cried Photogen.

Thus they fell a-talking, and he told her what he knew of his history,
and she told him what she knew of hers, and they agreed they must get
away from Watho as far as ever they could.

"And we must set out at once," said Nycteris.

"The moment the morning comes," returned Photogen.

"We must not wait for the morning," said Nycteris, "for then I shall not
be able to move, and what would you do the next night? Besides, Watho
sees best in the daytime. Indeed, you must come now, Photogen. You
must."

"I can not; I dare not," said Photogen. "I can not move. If I but lift
my head from your lap, the very sickness of terror seizes me."

"I shall be with yo