THE GOLD OF FAIRNILEE. 287

 

> and she crossed him

dreads the holy sign,’
again.

Now all grew dark as the darkest winter’s
night. The air was warm and deadly still, and
heavy with the scent of the fairy flowers.

In the blackness and the silence, Jeanie made

 

 

the sacred sign for the third time. Then a clear
‘fresh wind blew on her face, and the forest
boughs were shaken, and the silver light grew
and gained on the darkness, and she began to