The Romance of a Water-Lily. 109

 

PART II.
THE FAIRY.

HE moon rose slowly from behind the rugged
rocks of Ai; slowly, very slowly creeping.
round the spur of the mountain, the silver rays fell
softly on the grey poplars that stood in scant rows
across the marsh, and lit the rushing Rhéne in the
gorge, and the pools and runnels of water, where the
river split itself up on the plain and made those islets
of fancied fairyland as it neared the lake; the marsh
caught the sidelong glance of the moon from behind
the precipices, but the wide expanse of the lake was
dark still inthe shadow. Michael lay face downwards
on the soft ground and stretched out his hand across
the stream, striving to pluck the lilies for Salome.
He had waded through a great deal of water trying