"and she is?" asked jimmy, below.
"come up and have a look," said gerald. and jimmy came, partly with a pull from gerald and partly with a jump of his own.
"she's a statue, right enough," he said, in awestruck tones. "isn't it awful!"
"not at all," said gerald firmly. "come on let's go and tell mabel."
to mabel, therefore, who had discreetly remained with her long length screened by rhododendrons, the two boys returned and broke the news. they broke it as one breaks a bottle with a pistol-shot.
"oh, my goodness!" said mabel, and writhed through her long length so that the leaves and fern tumbled off in little showers, and she felt the sun suddenly hot on the backs of her legs. "what next? oh, my goodness!"
"she'll come all right," said gerald, with outward calm.
"yes; but what about me?" mabel urged. "i haven't got the ring.
and my time will be up before hers is. couldn't you get it back?
can't you get it off her hand? i'd put it back on her hand the very
minute i was my right size again faithfully i would."
"well, it's nothing to blub about," said jimmy, answering the sniffs that had served her in this speech for commas and full-stops; "not for you, anyway."
"ah! you don't know," said mabel; "you don't know what it is to be as long as i am. do do try and get the ring. after all, it is my ring more than any of the rest of yours, anyhow, because i did find it, and i did say it was magic."
the sense of justice always present in the breast of gerald awoke to this appeal.
"i expect the ring's turned to stone her boots have, and all her clothes. but i'll go and see. only if i can't, i can't, and it's no use your making a silly fuss."
the first match lighted inside the dinosaurus showed the ring dark on the white hand of the statuesque kathleen.
the fingers were stretched straight out. gerald took hold of the ring, and, to his surprise, it slipped easily off the cold, smooth marble finger.
"i say, cathy, old girl, i am sorry," he said, and gave the marble hand a squeeze. then it came to him that perhaps she could hear him. so he told the statue exactly what he and the others meant to do. this helped to clear up his ideas as to what he and the others did mean to do. so that when, after thumping the statue hearteningly on its marble back, he returned to the rhododendrons, he was able to give his orders with the clear precision of a born leader, as he later said. and since the others had, neither of them, thought of any plans, his plan was accepted, as the plans of born leaders are apt to be.
"here's your precious ring," he said to mabel. "now you're not frightened of anything, are you?"
"no," said mabel, in surprise. "i'd forgotten that. look here, i'll stay here or farther up in the wood if you'll leave me all the coats, so that i shan't be cold in the night. then i shall be here when kathleen comes out of the stone again."
"yes," said gerald, "that was exactly the born leader's idea.
"you two go home and tell mademoiselle that kathleen's staying at the towers. she is."
"yes," said jimmy, "she certainly is."
"the magic goes in seven-hour lots," said gerald; "your invisibility was twenty-one hours, mine fourteen, eliza's seven. when it was a wishing-ring it began with seven. but there's no knowing what number it will be really. so there's no knowing which of you will come right first. anyhow, we'll sneak out by the cistern window and come down the trellis, after we've said good night to mademoiselle, and come and have a look at you before we go to bed. i think you'd better come close up to the dinosaurus and we'll leaf you over before we go."
mabel crawled into cover of the taller trees, and there stood up looking as slender as a poplar and as unreal as the wrong answer to a sum in long division. it was to her an easy matter to crouch beneath the dinosaurus, to put her head up through the opening, and thus to behold the white form of kathleen.
"it's all right, dear," she told the stone image; "i shall be quite close to you. you call me as soon as you feel you're coming right again."
the statue remained motionless, as statues usually do, and mabel withdrew her head, lay down, was covered up, and left. the boys went home. it was the only reasonable thing to do. it would never have done for mademoiselle to become anxious and set the police on their track. everyone felt that. the shock of discovering the missing kathleen, not only in a dinosaurus's stomach, but, further, in a stone statue of herself, might well have unhinged the mind of any constable, to say nothing of the mind of mademoiselle, which, being foreign, would necessarily be a mind more light and easy to upset. while as for mabel
"well, to look at her as she is now," said gerald, "why, it would send any one off their chump except us."
"we're different, said jimmy; "our chumps have had to jolly well get used to things. it would take a lot to upset us now."
"poor old cathy! all the same," said gerald. "yes, of course," said
jimmy.
the sun had died away behind the black trees and the moon was rising. mabel, her preposterous length covered with coats, waistcoats, and trousers laid along it, slept peacefully in the chill of the evening. inside the dinosaurus kathleen, alive in her marble, slept too. she had heard gerald's words had seen the lighted matches. she was kathleen just the same as ever only she was kathleen in a case of marble that would not let her move. it would not have let her cry, even if she wanted to. but she had not wanted to cry. inside, the marble was not cold or hard. it seemed, somehow, to be softly lined with warmth and pleasantness and safety. her back did not ache with stooping. her limbs were not stiff with the hours that they had stayed moveless. everything was well better than well. one had only to wait quietly and quite comfortably and one would come out of this stone case, and once more be the kathleen one had always been used to being. so she waited happily and calmly, and presently waiting changed to not waiting to not anything; and, close held in the soft inwardness of the marble, she slept as peacefully and calmly as though she had been lying in her own bed.
she was awakened by the fact that she was not lying in her own bed was not, indeed, lying at all by the fact that she was standing and that her feet had pins and needles in them. her arms, too, held out in that odd way, were stiff and tired. she rubbed her eyes, yawned, and remembered. she had been a statue a statue inside the stone dinosaurus.
"now i'm alive again," was her instant conclusion, "and i'll get out of it."
she sat down, put her feet through the hole that showed faintly grey in the stone beast's underside, and as she did so a long, slow lurch threw her sideways on the stone where she sat. the dinosaurus was moving!
"oh!" said kathleen inside it, "how dreadful! it must be moonlight, and it's come alive, like gerald said.
it was indeed moving. she could see through the hole the changing surface of grass and bracken and moss as it waddled heavily along. she dared not drop through the hole while it moved, for fear it should crush her to death with its gigantic feet. and with that thought came another: where was mabel? somewhere somewhere near? suppose one of the great feet planted itself on some part of mabel's inconvenient length? mabel being the size she was now it would be quite difficult not to step on some part or other of her, if she should happen to be in one's way quite difficult, however much one tried. and the dinosaurus would not try: why should it? kathleen hung in an agony over the round opening. the huge beast swung from side to side. it was going faster; it was no good, she dared not jump out. anyhow, they must be quite away from mabel by now. faster and faster went the dinosaurus. the floor of its stomach sloped. they were going downhill. twigs cracked and broke as it pushed through a belt of evergreen oaks; gravel crunched, ground beneath its stony feet. then stone met stone. there was a pause. a splash! they were close to water the lake where by moonlight hermes fluttered and janus and the dinosaurus swam together. kathleen dropped swiftly through the hole on to the flat marble that edged the basin, rushed sideways, and stood panting in the shadow of a statue's pedestal. not a moment too soon, for even as she crouched the monster lizard slipped heavily into the water, drowning a thousand smooth, shining lily pads, and swam away towards the central island.
"be still, little lady. i leap!" the voice came from the pedestal, and next moment phoebus had jumped from the pedestal in his little temple, clearing the steps, and landing a couple of yards away.
"you are new," said phoebus over his graceful shoulder. "i should not have forgotten you if once i had seen you."
"i am," said kathleen, "quite, quite new. and i didn't know you could talk."
"why not?" phoebus laughed. "you can talk."
"but i'm alive."
"am not i?" he asked.
"oh, yes, i suppose so," said kathleen, distracted, but not afraid; "only i thought you had to have the ring on before one could even see you move."
phoebus seemed to understand her, which was rather to his credit, for she had certainly not expressed herself with clearness.
"ah! that's for mortals," he said. "we can hear and see each other in the few moments when life is ours. that is a part of the beautiful enchantment."
"but i am a mortal," said kathleen.
"you are as modest as you are charming," said phoebus apollo absently; "the white water calls me! i go," and the next moment rings of liquid silver spread across the lake, widening and widening, from the spot where the white joined hands of the sun-god had struck the water as he dived.
kathleen turned and went up the hill towards the rhododendron bushes. she must find mabel, and they must go home at once. if only mabel was of a size that one could conveniently take home with one! most likely, at this hour of enchantments, she was. kathleen, heartened by the thought, hurried on. she passed through the rhododendron bushes, remembered the pointed painted paper face that had looked out from the glossy leaves, expected to be frightened and wasn't. she found mabel easily enough, and much more easily than she would have done had mabel been as she wished to find her. for quite a long way off in the moonlight, she could see that long and worm-like form, extended to its full twelve feet and covered with coats and trousers and waistcoats. mabel looked like a drain-pipe that has been covered in sacks in frosty weather. kathleen touched her long cheek gently, and she woke.
"what's up?" she said sleepily.
"it's only me," kathleen explained.
"how cold your hands are!" said mabel.
"wake up," said kathleen, "and let's talk."
"can't we go home now? i'm awfully tired, and it's so long since tea-time."
"you're too long to go home yet," said kathleen sadly, and then
mabel remembered.
she lay with closed eyes then suddenly she stirred and cried out:
"oh! cathy, i feel so funny like one of those horn snakes when you make it go short to get it into its box. i am yes i know i am "
she was; and kathleen, watching her, agreed that it was exactly like the shortening of a horn spiral snake between the closing hands of a child. mabel's distant feet drew near mabel's long, lean arms grew shorter mabel's face was no longer half a yard long.
"you're coming right you are! oh, i am so glad!" cried kathleen.
"i know i am," said mabel; and as she said it she became once more mabel, not only in herself which, of course, she had been all the time, but in her outward appearance.
"you are all right. oh, hooray! hooray! i am so glad!" said
kathleen kindly; "and now we'll go home at once, dear."
"go home?" said mabel, slowly sitting up and staring at kathleen with her big dark eyes. "go home like that?"
"like what?" kathleen asked impatiently.
"why, you," was mabel's odd reply.
"i'm all right," said kathleen. "come on."
"do you mean to say you don't know?" said mabel. "look at yourself your hands your dress everything."
kathleen looked at her hands. they were of marble whiteness. her dress, too her shoes, her stockings, even the ends of her hair. she was white as new-fallen snow.
"what is it?" she asked, beginning to tremble. "what am i all this horrid colour for?"
"don't you see? oh, cathy, don't you see? you've not come right.
you're a statue still."
"i'm not i'm alive i'm talking to you."
"i know you are, darling," said mabel, soothing her as one soothes a fractious child. "that's because it's moonlight."
"but you can see i'm alive."
"of course i can. i've got the ring."
"but i'm all right; i know i am."
"don't you see," said mabel gently, taking her white marble hand, "you're not all right? it's moonlight, and you're a statue, and you've just come alive with all the other statues. and when the moon goes down you'll just be a statue again. that's the difficulty, dear, about our going home again. you're just a statue still, only you've come alive with the other marble things. where's the dinosaurus?"
"in his bath," said kathleen, "and so are all the other stone beasts."
well," said mabel, trying to look on the bright side of things, "then we've got one thing, at any rate, to be thankful for!"
"if," said kathleen, sitting disconsolate in her marble, "if i am really a statue come alive, i wonder you're not afraid of me."
"i've got the ring," said mabel with decision. "cheer up, dear! you will soon be better. try not to think about it."
she spoke as you speak to a child that has cut its finger, or fallen down on the garden path, and rises up with grazed knees to which gravel sticks intimately.
"i know," kathleen absently answered.
"and i've been thinking," said mabel brightly, "we might find out a lot about this magic place, if the other statues aren't too proud to talk to us."
"they aren't," kathleen assured her; "at least, phoebus wasn't. he was most awfully polite and nice."
"where is he?" mabel asked.
"in the lake he was," said kathleen.
"then let's go down there," said mabel. "oh, cathy! it is jolly being your own proper thickness again." she jumped up, and the withered ferns and branches that had covered her long length and had been gathered closely upon her as she shrank to her proper size fell as forest leaves do when sudden storms tear them. but the white kathleen did not move.
the two sat on the grey moonlit grass with the quiet of the night all about them. the great park was still as a painted picture; only the splash of the fountains and the far-off whistle of the western express broke the silence, which, at the same time, then deepened.
"what cheer, little sister!" said a voice behind them a golden voice. they turned quick, startled heads, as birds, surprised, might turn. there in the moonlight stood phoebus, dripping still from the lake, and smiling at them, very gentle, very friendly.
"oh, it's you!" said kathleen.
"none other," said phoebus cheerfully. "who is your friend, the earth-child?"
"this is mabel," said kathleen.
mabel got up and bowed, hesitated, and held out a hand.
"i am your slave, little lady," said phoebus, enclosing it in marble fingers. "but i fail to understand how you can see us, and why you do not fear."
mabel held up the hand that wore the ring.
"quite sufficient explanation," said phoebus; "but since you have that, why retain your mottled earthy appearance? become a statue, and swim with us in the lake."
"i can't swim," said mabel evasively.
"nor yet me," said kathleen.
"you can," said phoebus. "all statues that come to life are proficient in all athletic exercises. and you, child of the dark eyes and hair like night, wish yourself a statue and join our revels."
"i'd rather not, if you will excuse me," said mabel cautiously. "you see … this ring … you wish for things, and you never know how long they're going to last. it would be jolly and all that to be a statue now, but in the morning i should wish i hadn't."
"earth-folk often do, they say," mused phoebus. "but, child, you seem ignorant of the powers of your ring. wish exactly, and the ring will exactly perform. if you give no limit of time, strange enchantments woven by arithmos the outcast god of numbers will creep in and spoil the spell. say thus: "i wish that till the dawn i may be a statue of living marble, even as my child friend, and that after that time i may be as before mabel of the dark eyes and night-coloured hair."
"oh, yes, do, it would be so jolly!" cried kathleen. "do, mabel!
and if we're both statues, shall we be afraid of the dinosaurus?"
"in the world of living marble fear is not," said phoebus. "are we not brothers, we and the dinosaurus brethren alike wrought of stone and life?"
"and could i swim if i did?"
"swim, and float, and dive and with the ladies of olympus spread the nightly feast, eat of the food of the gods, drink their cup, listen to the song that is undying, and catch the laughter of immortal lips."
"a feast!" said kathleen. "oh, mabel, do! you would if you were as hungry as i am."
"but it won't be real food," urged mabel.
"it will be real to you, as to us," said phoebus; "there is no other realness even in your many-coloured world."
still mabel hesitated. then she looked at kathleen's legs and suddenly said: "very well, i will. but first i'll take off my shoes and stockings. marble boots look simply awful especially the laces. and a marble stocking that's coming down and mine do!"
she had pulled off shoes and stockings and pinafore. "mabel has the sense of beauty," said phoebus approvingly. "speak the spell, child, and i will lead you to the ladies of olympus."
mabel, trembling a little, spoke it, and there were two little live statues in the moonlit glade. tall phoebus took a hand of each.
"come run!" he cried. and they ran.
"oh it is jolly!" mabel panted. "look at my white feet in the grass!
i thought it would feel stiff to be a statue, but it doesn't."
"there is no stiffness about the immortals," laughed the sun-god.
"for tonight you are one of us."
and with that they ran down the slope to the lake.
"jump!" he cried, and they jumped, and the water splashed up round three white, gleaming shapes.
"oh! i can swim!" breathed kathleen.
"so can i," said mabel.
"of course you can," said phoebus. "now three times round the lake, and then make for the island."
side by side the three swam, phoebus swimming gently to keep pace with the children. their marble clothes did not seem to interfere at all with their swimming, as your clothes would if you suddenly jumped into the basin of the trafalgar square fountains and tried to swim there. and they swam most beautifully, with that perfect ease and absence of effort or tiredness which you must have noticed about your own swimming in dreams. and it was the most lovely place to swim in; the water-lilies, whose long, snaky stalks are so inconvenient to ordinary swimmers, did not in the least interfere with the movements of marble arms and legs. the moon was high in the clear sky-dome. the weeping willows, cypresses, temples, terraces, banks of trees and shrubs, and the wonderful old house, all added to the romantic charm of the scene.
"this is the nicest thing the ring has brought us yet," said mabel, through a languid but perfect side-stroke.
"i thought you'd enjoy it," said phoebus kindly; "now once more round, and then the island."
they landed on the island amid a fringe of rushes, yarrow, willow-herb, loose-strife, and a few late, scented, powdery, creamy heads of meadow-sweet. the island was bigger than it looked from the bank, and it seemed covered with trees and shrubs. but when, phoebus leading the way, they went into the shadow of these, they perceived that beyond the trees lay a light, much nearer to them than the other side of the island could possibly be. and almost at once they were through the belt of trees, and could see where the light came from. the trees they had just passed among made a dark circle round a big cleared space, standing up thick and dark, like a crowd round a football field, as kathleen remarked.
first came a wide, smooth ring of lawn, then marble steps going down to a round pool, where there were no water-lilies, only gold and silver fish that darted here and there like flashes of quicksilver and dark flames. and the enclosed space of water and marble and grass was lighted with a clear, white, radiant light, seven times stronger than the whitest moonlight, and in the still waters of the pool seven moons lay reflected. one could see that they were only reflections by the way their shape broke and changed as the gold and silver fish rippled the water with moving fin and tail that steered.
the girls looked up at the sky, almost expecting to see seven moons there. but no, the old moon shone alone, as she had always shone on them.
"there are seven moons," said mabel blankly, and pointed, which is not manners.
"of course," said phoebus kindly; "everything in our world is seven times as much so as in yours."
"but there aren't seven of you," said mabel.
"no, but i am seven times as much," said the sun-god. "you see, there's numbers, and there's quantity, to say nothing of quality. you see that, i'm sure."
"not quite," said kathleen.
"explanations always weary me," phoebus interrupted. "shall we join the ladies?"
on the further side of the pool was a large group, so white that it seemed to make a great white hole in the trees. some twenty or thirty figures there were in the group all statues and all alive. some were dipping their white feet among the gold and silver fish, and sending ripples across the faces of the seven moons. some were pelting each other with roses roses so sweet that the girls could smell them even across the pool. others were holding hands and dancing in a ring, and two were sitting on the steps playing cat's-cradle which is a very ancient game indeed with a thread of white marble.
as the new-comers advanced a shout of greeting and gay laughter went up. "late again, phoebus!" someone called out. and another: "did one of your horses cast a shoe?" and yet another called out something about laurels.
"i bring two guests," said phoebus, and instantly the statues crowded round, stroking the girls hair, patting their cheeks, and calling them the prettiest love-names.
"are the wreaths ready, hebe?" the tallest and most splendid of the ladies called out. "make two more!"
and almost directly hebe came down the steps, her round arms hung thick with rose-wreaths. there was one for each marble head.
everyone now looked seven times more beautiful than before, which, in the case of the gods and goddesses, is saying a good deal. the children remembered how at the raspberry vinegar feast mademoiselle had said that gods and goddesses always wore wreaths for meals.
hebe herself arranged the roses on the girls heads and aphrodite urania, the dearest lady in the world, with a voice like mother's at those moments when you love her most, took them by the hands and said: "come, we must get the feast ready. eros psyche hebe ganymede all you young people can arrange the fruit."
"i don't see any fruit," said kathleen, as four slender forms disengaged themselves from the white crowd and came towards them.
"you will though," said eros, a really nice boy, as the girls instantly agreed; "you've only got to pick it."
"like this," said psyche, lifting her marble arms to a willow branch. she reached out her hand to the children it held a ripe pomegranate.
"i see," said mabel. "you just " she laid her fingers to the willow branch and the firm softness of a big peach was within them.
"yes, just that," laughed psyche, who was a darling, as any one could see.
after this hebe gathered a few silver baskets from a convenient alder, and the four picked fruit industriously. meanwhile the elder statues were busy plucking golden goblets and jugs and dishes from the branches of ash-trees and young oaks and filling them with everything nice to eat and drink that anyone could possibly want, and these were spread on the steps. it was a celestial picnic. then everyone sat or lay down and the feast began. and oh! the taste of the food served on those dishes, the sweet wonder of the drink that melted from those gold cups on the white lips of the company! and the fruit there is no fruit like it grown on earth, just as there is no laughter like the laughter of those lips, no songs like the songs that stirred the silence of that night of wonder.
"oh!" cried kathleen, and through her fingers the juice of her third peach fell like tears on the marble steps. "i do wish the boys were here!"
"i do wonder what they're doing," said mabel.
"at this moment," said hermes, who had just made a wide ring of flight, as a pigeon does, and come back into the circle "at this moment they are wandering desolately near the home of the dinosaurus, having escaped from their home by a window, in search of you. they fear that you have perished, and they would weep if they did not know that tears do not become a man, however youthful."
kathleen stood up and brushed the crumbs of ambrosia from her marble lap.
"thank you all very much, she said. "it was very kind of you to have us, and we've enjoyed ourselves very much, but i think we ought to go now, please.
"if it is anxiety about your brothers," said phoebus obligingly, "it is the easiest thing in the world for them to join you. lend me your ring a moment."
he took it from kathleen's half-reluctant hand, dipped it in the reflection of one of the seven moons, and gave it back. she clutched it. "now," said the sun-god, "wish for them that which mabel wished for herself. say "
"i know," kathleen interrupted. "i wish that the boys may be statues of living marble like mabel and me till dawn, and afterwards be like they are now."
"if you hadn't interrupted," said phoebus "but there, we can't expect old heads on shoulders of young marble. you should have wished them here and but no matter. hermes, old chap, cut across and fetch them, and explain things as you come."
he dipped the ring again in one of the reflected moons before he gave it back to kathleen.
"there," he said, "now it's washed clean ready for the next magic."
"it is not our custom to question guests," said hera the queen, turning her great eyes on the children; "but that ring excites, i am sure, the interest of us all."
"it is the ring," said phoebus.
"that, of course," said hera; "but if it were not inhospitable to ask questions i should ask, how came it into the hands of these earth-children?"
"that," said phoebus, "is a long tale. after the feast the story, and after the story the song."
hermes seemed to have "explained everything" quite fully; for when gerald and jimmy in marble whiteness arrived, each clinging to one of the god's winged feet, and so borne through the air, they were certainly quite at ease. they made their best bows to the goddesses and took their places as unembarrassed as though they had had olympian suppers every night of their lives. hebe had woven wreaths of roses ready for them, and as kathleen watched them eating and drinking, perfectly at home in their marble, she was very glad that amid the welling springs of immortal peach-juice she had not forgotten her brothers.
"and now," said hera, when the boys had been supplied with everything they could possibly desire, and more than they could eat "now for the story."
"yes," said mabel intensely; and kathleen said, "oh yes; now for the story. how splendid!"
"the story," said phoebus unexpectedly, "will be told by our guests."
"oh no!" said kathleen, shrinking.
"the lads, maybe, are bolder," said zeus the king, taking off his rose-wreath, which was a little tight, and rubbing his compressed ears.
"i really can't," said gerald; "besides, i don't know any stories."
"nor yet me," said jimmy.
"it's the story of how we got the ring that they want," said mabel in a hurry. "i'll tell it if you like, once upon a time there was a little girl called mabel," she added yet more hastily, and went on with the tale all the tale of the enchanted castle, or almost all, that you have read in these pages. the marble olympians listened enchanted almost as enchanted as the castle itself, and the soft moonlit moments fell past like pearls dropping into a deep pool.
"and so," mabel ended abruptly, "kathleen wished for the boys and the lord hermes fetched them and here we all are."
a burst of interested comment and question blossomed out round the end of the story, suddenly broken off short by mabel.
"but," said she, brushing it aside, as it grew thinner, "now we want you to tell us."
"to tell you ?"
"how you come to be alive, and how you know about the ring and everything you do know."
"everything i know?" phoebus laughed it was to him that she had spoken and not his lips only but all the white lips curled in laughter. "the span of your life, my earth-child, would not contain the words i should speak, to tell you all i know."
"well, about the ring anyhow, and how you come alive," said
gerald; "you see, it's very puzzling to us."
"tell them, phoebus," said the dearest lady in the world; "don't tease the children."
so phoebus, leaning back against a heap of leopard- skins that
dionysus had lavishly plucked from a spruce fir, told.
"all statues," he said, "can come alive when the moon shines, if they so choose. but statues that are placed in ugly cities do not choose. why should they weary themselves with the contemplation of the hideous?"
"quite so," said gerald politely, to fill the pause.
"in your beautiful temples," the sun-god went on, "the images of your priests and of your warriors who lie cross-legged on their tombs come alive and walk in their marble about their temples, and through the woods and fields. but only on one night in all the year can any see them. you have beheld us because you held the ring, and are of one brotherhood with us in your marble, but on that one night all may behold us."
"and when is that?" gerald asked, again polite, in a pause.
"at the festival of the harvest," said phoebes. "on that night as the moon rises it strikes one beam of perfect light on to the altar in certain temples. one of these temples is in hellas, buried under the fall of a mountain which zeus, being angry, hurled down upon it. one is in this land; it is in this great garden."
"then," said gerald, much interested, "if we were to come up to that temple on that night, we could see you, even without being statues or having the ring?"
"even so," said phoebus. "more, any question asked by a mortal we are on that night bound to answer."
"and the night is when?"
"ah!" said phoebus, and laughed. "wouldn't you like to know!"
