See, there is light, to the left of you; light, and fresh air,
_and_ my pretty bower."
I turned as her hand guided me. A puff of wind blew on my cheek,
cold and infinitely pure. I stood blinking in a short gallery that
ended suddenly in blue sky, and, staggering forward, I cast myself
down on the brink.
It was as though I lay on the sill of a great open window. Below
me--far below--waved great masses of forest, and beyond these--far
beyond--shone the blue sea. I cannot say to what depth the cliff
fell away below me. It was more than sheer--it was undercut.
I lay as one suspended over the void.
"But see, pe-ritty boy! did I not promise you wonders?"
As I faced around to the darkness of the gallery, she held aloft
something which, for the moment, I mistook for a great green snake
with lines of fire running from scale to scale and sparkling as she
waved it before me. I rolled over upon my elbow and stared. It was
a rope of emeralds.
She flung an end over one shoulder and looped it low over her breast;
then, passing the other end about her neck, she brought it forward
over the same shoulder and let it dangle. It reached almost to her
feet.
"Does it become me, little boy?" She made me a mock curtsey that set
the gems dancing with fire.
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