Reason returned, but as a step-mother returns to frenzied orphan's dying bed. They felt each other's pulses. There was life,--corporeal life; but still there was a change, which no one chose to mention,--yet a change quite unaccountable for one night's sleep to have effected. From their cavern's porch they viewed the stars of heaven. They were the same as they were wont. They saw the golden wain, the polar plough tilling his ample field with slow unwearied furrow, and the sisters,--the seven lovely sisters of the sky, arching their gorgeous path. Far to the east they spied a star beloved, which in their childhood they oft had watched, and named the "tiger's eye," changing its vivid colours as of yore. And then they wept to think of former days of innocence and joy. And thus in tears, clasped in each other's arms, they laid them down their mazed and oppressed spirits to compose. While thus they lay, romantic Morna said: "My sisters, it is evident to all that some great change has happed to us last night. We are not what we were. What can it be but change from one existence to another? A mortal creature cannot touch or feel a disembodied spirit; but we know not how spirits feel each other. Sure as life and death hold opposition in this world, from the one into the other we have passed. I feel it in my being. So do you, though unacknowledged. Let us rise and walk as spirits do by night, and we shall see the change in us, not over a whole land in one short night. Come, let us roam abroad. I feel a restlessness,--a strong desire to flit from place to place,--perchance to fly between the mountain and the cloud, and view the abodes of those we love.