And she wondered if he were indeed an ancient Druid come to life again, and that the instinct of the ancient rites lingered in him.  However this might be, he could answer all her questions, and she was much interested when at the end of another tale he told her of Blake’s visions and prophetic books.  She knew little about Blake, and listened to Ulick’s account of his visions and prophecies.  Evelyn thought of Owen, and to escape from the thought she spoke of a legend which Ulick had once mentioned to her.

“You did not tell it to me, only the end; the very last phrase is all I know of it, ‘and the further adventures of Bran are unknown.’”

“Bran, the son of Feval, is the story of a man who went to the great plain, the land over the sea, the land of the children of Dana.  He was sitting in his court when a beautiful woman appeared, and she told him to man his ship and sail to the land of the Gods, the land where no one dies, where blossoms fall for ever....  I have forgotten the song, what a wonderful song it is.  Ah, I remember, ’Where music is not born, but continually is there, where’ ... no, I can’t remember it.  Bran sails away, and after sailing for some days he meets a man driving a chariot over the waves.  This man says, ’To my eyes you are sailing over the tops of a forest,’ and in many other ways makes clear to him that all things are but appearances, and change with the eye that sees them.”

“How true that is.  At Lady Ascott’s ball I was enjoying myself, delighted with the brilliancy of the dresses, the jewellery and the flowers, and in a moment they all passed away; I only saw a little triviality and heard a voice crying within me, ’Why are you here, why are you doing these things?  This ball means nothing to you.’”

“That was the voice of your destiny; your life is no longer with Owen.”

“With whom is it, Ulick?  Tell me, you can see into the future.”

“I know no more than I told you last night.  I am your destiny for to-day.”

They looked at each other in fear and sadness—­and though both knew the truth, neither could speak it.

“Then what happens to Bran, the son of Feval?”

“Bran visits many islands of many delights, but wishing to see his native land once more, he sails away, but the people of those islands have told him that he must not set foot on any earthly shore, or he will perish.  So he sails close to his native land, but does not leave the ship.  The inhabitants ask him who he is; he tells them, and they reply, ‘The voyage of Bran, son of Feval, is among our most ancient stories.’  One man swims ashore, and the moment his foot touches earth he becomes a heap of dust.  Bran sails away, and the story ends with a phrase which you already know—­’The further adventures of Bran are unknown.’”

“How true! how true! the stories of our lives are known up to a certain point, and our further adventures are unknown.”