The grass was chill and dewy and the clouds had veiled the moon.
The lovers and the children were standing together, all clinging
close, not for fear, but for love.
"I want," said the French girl softly, "to go to the cave on the
island."
Very quietly through the gentle brooding night they went down to
the boat-house, loosed the clanking chain, and dipped oars among
the drowned stars and lilies. They came to the island, and found
the steps.
"I brought candles," said Gerald, "in case."
So, lighted by Gerald's candles, they went down into the Hall of
Psyche! and there glowed the light spread from her statue, and all
was as the children had seen it before.
It is the Hall of Granted Wishes.
"The ring," said Lord Yalding.
"The ring," said his lover, "is the magic ring given long ago to a
mortal, and it is what you say it is. It was given to your ancestor by
a lady of my house that he might build her a garden and a house
like her own palace and garden in her own land. So that this place
is built partly by his love and partly by that magic. She never lived
to see it; that was the price of the magic."
It must have been English that she spoke, for otherwise how could
the children have understood her? Yet the words were not like
Mademoiselle's way of speaking.
"Except from children," her voice went on, "the ring exacts a
payment.
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