“Flowers after all!” he exclaimed. ...  “Or maybe some aromatic herb...” and he bent down to examine the turf at his feet.  To his amazement he perceived a thick cluster of white blossoms, star-shaped and glossy-leaved, with deep golden centres, wherein bright drops of dew sparkled like brilliants, and from whence puffs of perfume rose like incense swung at unseen altars!  He looked at them in doubt that was almost dread, ... were they real? ... were these the “silver eyes” in which Esdras had seen “signs and wonders”? ... or was he hopelessly brain-sick with delusions, and dreaming again?

He touched them hesitatingly ... they were actual living things, with creamy petals soft as velvet,—­he was about to gather one of them,—­when all at once his attention was caught and riveted by something like a faint shadow gliding across the plain.  A smothered cry escaped his lips, ... he sprang erect and gazed eagerly forward, half in hope,—­half in fear.  What slight Figure was that, pacing slowly, serenely, and all alone in the moonlight? ...  Without another instant’s pause he rushed impetuously toward it,—­heedless that as he went, he trod on thousands of those strange starry blossoms, which now, with sudden growth, covered and whitened every inch of the ground, thus marvellously fulfilling the words spoken of old:  . .  “Behold the field thou thoughest barren; how great a glory hath the moon unveiled!”

CHAPTER X.

God’s maiden Edris.

He ran on swiftly for a few paces,—­then coming more closely in view of the misty Shape he pursued, he checked himself abruptly and stood still, his heart sinking with a bitter and irrepressible sense of disappointment.  Here surely was no Angel wanderer from unseen spheres! ... only a girl, clad in floating gray draperies that clung softly to her slim figure, and trailed behind her as she moved sedately along through the snow-white blossoms that bent beneath her noiseless tread.  He had no eyes for the strange flower-transfiguration of the lately barren land,—­all his interest was centered on the slender, graceful form of the mysterious Maiden.  She, meanwhile, went on her way, till she reached the western boundary of the field,—­there she turned, ... hesitated a moment, ... and then came back straight toward him.  He watched her approach as though she were some invisible fate,—­and a tremor shook his limbs as she drew nearer ... still nearer!  He could see her distinctly now, all but her face,—­that was in shadow, for her head was bent and her eyes were downcast.  Her long, fair hair flowed in a loose rippling mass over her shoulders ... she wore a wreath of the Ardath flowers, and carried a cluster of them clasped between her small, daintily shaped hands.  A few steps more, and she was close beside him—­she stopped as if in expectation of some word or sign ... but he stood mute and motionless, not daring to speak or stir.  Then—­without raising her eyes—­she passed, ... passed like a flitting vapor,—­and he remained as though rooted to the spot, in a sort of vague, dumb bewilderment!  His stupefaction was brief however—­rousing himself to swift resolution, he hastened, after her.