They had spoken less and less frequently as they drew near it, and the laughter of the Shadow Witch had ceased, for her heart had grown heavy, and her mind was filled with troubled thoughts. Soon Prince Ember would leave her to return to his own home in that fair land which she so much longed to behold. He had left it to come to her deliverance, and at first sight of him she had known that her heart’s love could never be given to anyone but him. That he loved her in return, she did not doubt. His eyes had said it, the tones of his voice had revealed it a hundred times. Had he not called her more than once his “dear Shadow Witch,” and given himself to danger for her sake again and again? Yet he said no word of taking her home with him—of making her his bride; and so her eyes were sad, and her heart was full of pain at the thought of the parting which was now so near at hand. She did not dare to speak, lest her grief should break forth uncontrolled. Who was she, she told herself, the mischievous Shadow Witch, a creature of grey magic, to be the bride of such a one as this bright, this glorious Prince, whose magic was all noble, whose land was all joy and brightness? In her mind she had no picture of that land. She had seen only Prince Radiance and his White Flame and this Prince Ember, yet she could guess from these, its bright inhabitants, how marvelous the Land of Fire must be. She bowed her head humbly as she thought of it. Its greatest glory, its noblest Prince could never be for her but she was determined that when he had gone from her, she would forsake her own home and would seek the confines at least of the Land of Fire, and there live in a little of its brightness—there learn what she could of its good magic. This much she must do, for her old life, her old ways, were now more than ever intolerable to her. Prince Ember, seeing her silent, guessed nothing of her thoughts. To him she was most dear and beautiful, the only one whom he could ever wish to win. They had reached the foot of her garden, and the Prince stood still. The Shadow Witch paused also, and waited in silence. Prince Ember took her hand and kissed it. “Lady of the Shadows,” he said, “we have come at last to your domain in safety.” The Shadow Witch caught her breath painfully, for she felt that the moment of farewell had come. It was as if she could not bear it. The Prince drew yet nearer. “Dear Shadow Witch,” he whispered, “I cannot leave you, so do I love you, yet I cannot stay with you here in this grey land. Go with me, then, to my own bright country. Go with me, there to be my bride and princess.” No answering words rose to the lips of the Shadow Witch. Her face was turned away, and her eyes hidden. But a moment since she had been silent because of overmastering sadness. Now, for very joy, she was dumb. In her humility she dared not grasp at once at the happiness held out to her.