the same, I presume, that was to the children a silent wind.
Involuntarily I turned to the hearth: its fire was a still small
moveless glow. But I saw the worm-thing come creeping out,
white-hot, vivid as incandescent silver, the live heart of essential
fire. Along the floor it crawled toward the settle, going very
slow. Yet more slowly it crept up on it, and laid itself, as
unwilling to go further, at the feet of the princess. I rose and
stole nearer. Mara stood motionless, as one that waits an event
foreknown. The shining thing crawled on to a bare bony foot: it
showed no suffering, neither was the settle scorched where the worm
had lain. Slowly, very slowly, it crept along her robe until it
reached her bosom, where it disappeared among the folds.

The face of the princess lay stonily calm, the eyelids closed as
over dead eyes; and for some minutes nothing followed. At length,
on the dry, parchment-like skin, began to appear drops as of the
finest dew: in a moment they were as large as seed-pearls, ran
together, and began to pour down in streams. I darted forward to
snatch the worm from the poor withered bosom, and crush it with my
foot. But Mara, Mother of Sorrow, stepped between, and drew aside
the closed edges of the robe: no serpent was there--no searing trail;
the creature had passed in by the centre of the black spot, and was
piercing through the joints and marrow to the thoughts and intents
of the heart. The princess gave one writhing, contorted shudder,
and I knew the worm was in her secret chamber.

"She is seeing herself!" said Mara; and laying her hand on my arm,
she drew me three paces from the settle.

Of a sudden the princess bent her body upward in an arch, then