at there are women strangely endowed with premonitory
instincts land preternatural gifts? Dear child, there is nothing in all
this that can or could displease me! My faith--the faith of my
Church--is founded on the preternatural endowment of a woman!"

She lifted her eyes to his, and a little sigh came from her lips.

"Yes, I know what you mean!"--she said--"But I am sure you cannot
possibly realise the weird nature of old Alison! She made me stand
before her, just where the light of the sun streamed through the open
doorway, and she looked at me for a long time with such a steady
piercing glance that I felt as if her eyes were boring through my
flesh. Then she got up from her spinning and pushed away the wheel, and
stretched out both her hands towards me, crying out in quite a strange,
wild voice--'Morgana! Morgana! Go your ways, child begotten of the sun
and shower!--go your ways! Little had mortal father or mother to do
with your making, for you are of the fey folk! Go your ways with your
own people!--you shall hear them whispering in the night and singing in
the morning,--and they shall command you and you shall obey!--they
shall beckon and you shall follow! Nothing of mortal flesh and blood
shall hold you--no love shall bind you,--no hate shall wound you!--the
clue is given into your hand,--the secret is disclosed--and the spirits
of air and fire and water have opened a door that you may enter in!
Hark!--I can hear their voices calling "Morgana! Morgana!" Go your
ways, child!--go hence and far!--the world is too small for your
wings!' She looked so fierce and grand and terrible that I was
frightened--I was only a girl of sixteen, and I ran to my father and
caught his hand. He spoke quite gently to Alison, but she seemed quite
beyond herself and unable to listen. 'Your way lies down a different
road, John Royal'--she said--'You that herded sheep on these hills and
that now hoard millions of money--of what use to you is your wealth?
You are but the worker,--gathering gold for HER--the "fey" child born
in an hour of May moonlight! You must go, but she must stay,--her own
folk have work for her to do!' Then my father said, 'Dear Alison, don't
frighten the child!' and she suddenly changed in her tone and manner.
'Frighten her?' she muttered. 'I would not frighten her for the world!'
And my father pushed me towards her and whispered--'Ask her to bless
you before you go.' So I just knelt before her, trembling very much,