My heart smote me with remorse at these words.  “Ah!” I exclaimed, “would that thou wert of my race or I of thine, then I should never say, ’I need thee no more.’”

“I bless thee for those words, and I shall remember them when thou art gone,” answered the Gy, tenderly.

During this brief interchange of words, Zee had turned away from me, her form bent and her head bowed over her breast.  Now, she rose to the full height of her grand stature, and stood fronting me.  While she had been thus averted from my gaze, she had lighted up the circlet that she wore round her brow, so that it blazed as if it were a crown of stars.  Not only her face and her form, but the atmosphere around, were illumined by the effulgence of the diadem.

“Now,” said she, “put thine arm around me for the first and last time.  Nay, thus; courage, and cling firm.”

As she spoke her form dilated, the vast wings expanded.  Clinging to her, I was borne aloft through the terrible chasm.  The starry light from her forehead shot around and before us through the darkness.  Brightly and steadfastly, and swiftly as an angel may soar heavenward with the soul it rescues from the grave, went the flight of the Gy, till I heard in the distance the hum of human voices, the sounds of human toil.  We halted on the flooring of one of the galleries of the mine, and beyond, in the vista, burned the dim, feeble lamps of the miners.  Then I released my hold.  The Gy kissed me on my forehead, passionately, but as with a mother’s passion, and said, as the tears gushed from her eyes, “Farewell for ever.  Thou wilt not let me go into thy world—­thou canst never return to mine.  Ere our household shake off slumber, the rocks will have again closed over the chasm not to be re-opened by me, nor perhaps by others, for ages yet unguessed.  Think of me sometimes, and with kindness.  When I reach the life that lies beyond this speck in time, I shall look round for thee.  Even there, the world consigned to thyself and thy people may have rocks and gulfs which divide it from that in which I rejoin those of my race that have gone before, and I may be powerless to cleave way to regain thee as I have cloven way to lose.”

Her voice ceased.  I heard the swan-like sough of her wings, and saw the rays of her starry diadem receding far and farther through the gloom.

I sate myself down for some time, musing sorrowfully; then I rose and took my way with slow footsteps towards the place in which I heard the sounds of men.  The miners I encountered were strange to me, of another nation than my own.  They turned to look at me with some surprise, but finding that I could not answer their brief questions in their own language, they returned to their work and suffered me to pass on unmolested.  In fine, I regained the mouth of the mine, little troubled by other interrogatories;—­save those of a friendly official to whom I was known, and luckily he was too busy to talk much with me.