The Well at the World's End: A TaleMorris, William
Science
The Well at the World's End: A Tale
Morris, William
Fantasy fiction; Quests (Expeditions) -- Fiction
"I had stayed my feet some six paces from the threshold, and my heart
beat quick, but the sick fear and cowering had left me, though the
horror of her grew in my heart. My goats had all gone off quietly to
their house, and there was nothing betwixt me and her. In clearing
from my sleeve the arm of me which held the knife, the rough clasp
which fastened my raiment together at the shoulder had given way, and
the cloth had fallen and left my bosom bare, so that I knew that the
collar was clearly to be seen. So we stood a moment, and I had no
words, but she spake at last in a hard, snarling voice, such as she
oftenest used to me, but worse.
"'Now at last the time has come when thou art of no more use to me; for
I can see thee what thou hast got for thyself. But know now that thou
hast not yet drunk of the Well at the World's End, and that it will not
avail thee to flee out of this wood; for as long as I live thou wilt
not be able to get out of reach of my hand; and I shall live long: I
shall live long. Come, then, and give thyself up to me, that I may
deal with thee as I threatened when I slew thy friend the white goat;
for, indeed, I knew then that it would come to this.'
"She had but twice or thrice spoken to me so many words together as
this; but I answered never a word, but stood watching her warily. And
of a sudden she gave forth a dreadful screaming roar, wherewith all the
wood rang again, and rushed at me; but my hand came from behind my
back, and how it was I know not, but she touched me not till the blade
had sunk into her breast, and she fell across my feet, her right hand
clutching my raiment. So I loosed her fingers from the cloth,
shuddering with horror the while, and drew myself away from her and
stood a little aloof, wondering what should happen next. And indeed I
scarce believed but she would presently rise up from the ground and
clutch me in her hands, and begin the tormenting of me. But she moved
no more, and the grass all about her was reddened with her blood; and
at last I gathered heart to kneel down beside her, and found that she
no more breathed than one of those conies or partridges which I had
been used to slay for her.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account