ate of them greedily, a full meal, and would have gone on had not the
stern Bickley, fearing untoward consequences, removed the basket. Again
the results were wonderful, for half an hour afterwards they seemed to
be quite strong. With my assistance the Glittering Lady, as I still call
her, for at that time I did not know her name, rose from the chair, and,
leaning on me, tottered a few steps forward. Then she stood looking at
the sky and all the lovely panorama of nature beneath, and stretching
out her arms as though in worship. Oh! how beautiful she seemed with the
sunlight shining on her heavenly face!

Now for the first time I heard her voice. It was soft and deep, yet in
it was a curious bell-like tone that seemed to vibrate like the sound of
chimes heard from far away. Never have I listened to such another voice.
She pointed to the sun whereof the light turned her radiant hair and
garments to a kind of golden glory, and called it by some name that I
could not understand. I shook my head, whereon she gave it a different
name taken, I suppose, from another language. Again I shook my head and
she tried a third time. To my delight this word was practically the same
that the Orofenans used for "sun."

"Yes," I said, speaking very slowly, "so it is called by the people of
this land."

She understood, for she answered in much the same language:

"What, then, do you call it?"

"Sun in the English tongue," I replied.

"Sun. English," she repeated after me, then added, "How are you named,
Wanderer?"

"Humphrey," I answered.

"Hum-fe-ry!" she said as though she were learning the word, "and those?"

"Bastin and Bickley," I replied.

Over these patronymics she shook her head; as yet they were too much for
her.

"How are you named, Sleeper?" I asked.

"Yva," she answered.

"A beautiful name for one who is beautiful," I declared with enthusiasm,
of course always in the rich Orofenan dialect which by now I could talk
well enough.

She repeated the words once or twice, then of a sudden caught their
meaning, for she smiled and even coloured, saying hastily with a wave of
her hand towards the Ancient who stood at a distance between Bastin and
Bickley, "My father, Oro; great man; great king; great god!"

At this information I started, for it was startling to learn that
here was the original Oro, who was still worshipped by the Orofenans,
although of his actual existence they had known nothing for uncounted
time.