of my
desertion awoke an infant hope. The noiseless thrill reached the
coffin-door--became sound, and smote on my ear.

The door began to move--with a low, soft creaking of its hinges. It was
opening! I ceased to listen, and stared expectant.

It opened a little way, and a face came into the opening. It was Lona's.
Its eyes were closed, but the face itself was upon me, and seemed to see
me. It was white as Eve's, white as Mara's, but did not shine like their
faces. She spoke, and her voice was like a sleepy night-wind in the
grass.

"Are you coming, king?" it said. "I cannot rest until you are with me,
gliding down the river to the great sea, and the beautiful dream-land.
The sleepiness is full of lovely things: come and see them."

"Ah, my darling!" I cried. "Had I but known!--I thought you were dead!"

She lay on my bosom--cold as ice frozen to marble. She threw her arms,
so white, feebly about me, and sighed--

"Carry me back to my bed, king. I want to sleep."

I bore her to the death-chamber, holding her tight lest she should
dissolve out of my arms. Unaware that I saw, I carried her straight to
her couch.

"Lay me down," she said, "and cover me from the warm air; it hurts--a
little. Your bed is there, next to mine. I shall see you when I wake."

She was already asleep. I threw myself on my couch--blessed as never was
man on the eve of his wedding.

"Come, sweet cold," I said, "and still my heart speedily."

But there came instead a glimmer of light in the chamber, and I saw the
face of Adam approaching. He had not the candle, yet I saw him. At the
side of Lona's couch, he looked down on her with a questioning smile,
and then greeted me across it.

"We have been to the top of the hill to hear the waters on their way,"
he said. "They will be in the den of the monsters to-night.--But why did
you not await our return?"

"My child could not sleep," I answered.

"She is fast asleep!" he rejoined.

"Yes, now!" I said; "but she was awake when I laid her down."

"She was asleep all the time!" he insisted. "She was perhaps dreaming
about you--and came to you?"

"She did."

"And did you not see that her eyes were closed?"

"Now I think of it, I did."

"If you had looked ere you laid her down, you would have seen her asleep
on the couch."

"That would have been terrible!"

"You would only have found that she was no longer in your arms."

"That would have been worse!"

"It is, perhaps, to think