The King held out his sceptre to her; and again the mist came up from the ground and enwrapped the beryl throne, and the figures of the King and the Chancellor wavered and became dim before her. _Were_ they the King and the Chancellor? Was not what she saw, so dim through the mist, the figures of the shepherd who had helped her on Glenollisdal and his black collie? But the mist was wavering again about them, and again all was a blur; and then the mist suddenly cleared, and there was no one there at all but just the old hawker and the little terrier which followed him. "So you were the King of the Fairies all the time," said Fiona. "All the time," said the old man gently. "We go about in the world as you see us. And some still entertain angels unaware. Have you come for your treasure, Fiona?" And this time Fiona answered, "Yes." "You have earned it," said the King. "And you have found much more than any treasure. Your father has told you that?" And again Fiona said, "Yes." "I cannot really give you your treasure," said the King, "for you have it already. I think you have had it all the time; but you did not know. But now you have learnt." "What is it?" asked Fiona. "But I think I can guess now." "It is the spirit of the island which you love," said the King, "and which henceforth loves you. You have spoken face to face with bird and beast and with the beings who knew and loved the land before your race was. To-day you have the freedom of the island, and of all living things in it; they are your friends forever. And to the dead in its graveyards you are kin. All that is there has passed into your blood, the old lost loves, the old impossible loyalties, the old forgotten heroisms and tendernesses; all these are yours; and yours are the songs that were sung long ago, and the tales which were told by the fireside; and the deeds of the men and women of old have become part of you. You can walk now through the crowded city and never know it, for the wind from the heather will be about you where you go; you can stand in the tumult of men and never hear them, for round you will be the silence of your own sea. That is the treasure of the Isle of Mist; the island has given you of its soul. You have found greater things already; you will find greater things yet again. But such as it is, it is the best gift which we of the fairy world have to give." "And now," continued the King, "you will not see us again. And I will take back the bracelet. It would be no further use to you, for you are no longer a child. You are too old for Fairyland." "But my father could see you," said Fiona. "He could only see me as I really am through your eyes," said the King. "It may be that some day you too will see me again through the eyes of a child. But for the present it is farewell."