I saw you," she answered, still with her back to me, "in the light of
the moon, just as she went down. I see badly in the day, but at night
perfectly. The shadow of my house would have hidden you, but both
its doors were open. I was out on the waste, and saw you go into this
hollow. You were asleep, however, before I could reach you, and I was
not willing to disturb you. People are frightened if I come on them
suddenly. They call me the Cat-woman. It is not my name."

I remembered what the children had told me--that she was very ugly, and
scratched. But her voice was gentle, and its tone a little apologetic:
she could not be a bad giantess!

"You shall not hear it from me," I answered, "Please tell me what I MAY
call you!"

"When you know me, call me by the name that seems to you to fit me," she
replied: "that will tell me what sort you are. People do not often give
me the right one. It is well when they do."

"I suppose, madam, you live in the cottage I saw in the heart of the
moon?"

"I do. I live there alone, except when I have visitors. It is a poor
place, but I do what I can for my guests, and sometimes their sleep is
sweet to them."

Her voice entered into me, and made me feel strangely still.

"I will go with you, madam," I said, rising.

She rose at once, and without a glance behind her led the way. I could
see her just well enough to follow. She was taller than myself, but not
so tall as I had thought her. That she never turned her face to me made
me curious--nowise apprehensive, her voice rang so true. But how was I
to fit her with a name who could not see her? I strove to get alongside
of her, but failed: when I quickened my pace she quickened hers, and
kept easily ahead of me. At length I did begin to grow a little afraid.
Why was she so careful not to be seen? Extraordinary ugliness would
account for it: she might fear terrifying me! Horror of an inconceivable
monstrosity began to assail me: was I following through the dark
an unheard of hideousness? Almost I repented of having accepted her
hospitality.

Neither spoke, and the silence grew unbearable. I MUST break it!

"I want to find my way," I said, "to a place I have heard of, but whose
name I have not yet learned. Perhaps you can tell it me!"

"Describe it, then, and I will direct you. The stupid Bags know nothing,
and the careless little Lovers forget almost everything."

"Where do those live?"

"You are just come from them!"

"I neve