Time seemed to crawl like a wounded snake in the grass. The figures on the arras gestured and grimaced; the jewelled glass in the oriel burnt in through the dark lattice of her veil. She heard footsteps on the stairs; Modred’s deep voice, joyous and strangely tender. A hand fumbled at the latch. Starting up, she ran towards the shadows, and hid her face in the folds of the arras. The door had closed and all was silent. "Yeoland." The cry smote through her like joy barbed with bitterness. She shuddered and caught her breath, swayed as she stood with the arras hiding her face. "Wife, wife." With sudden strength, compelling herself, she peered round, and saw a figure standing in the shadow, a man with white face turned towards the light, his hands stretched out like a little child’s. She stood motionless, breathing fast with short, convulsive breaths, her lips quivering beneath her veil. "I am here," she said to him, husky, tremulous, and faint. "Yeoland." "Ah!" "I hear your voice; come near to me." She wavered forward three steps into the room, stood staring strangely at the figure by the door. "Yeoland, are you near?" "My God!" "I give myself to you, a broken man. Ah, where are your hands?" Sudden comprehension seized her; she went very near to him, gazing in his face. "Speak." "Wife, I shall never see the sky again, nor watch the stars at night, nor the moon, nor the sea. I shall never look on Avalon, her green woods and her lilies, and her sleeping mere. I shall never behold your face again. I am blind, I am blind." She gave a great cry, tore the veil from her face, and cast it far from her. "Husband, I come to you." His hands were groping in the dark, groping like souls that sought the light. She went near him, weeping, caught his fingers, kissed them with her lips. The man’s arms circled her; she hung therein, and buried her head in his bosom. [Illustration: "HIS HANDS WERE GROPING IN THE DARK."] "My love, my own." "I am blind; your hair bathes my face." "Ah, you are blind, mine eyes are yours, and I your wife will be your sun. No more pain shall compass you; there shall be no more grieving, no more tears." "Yeoland." "Husband." "God in heaven, I give Thee thanks for this."