Moonchild

the one blow might end all, she thrust herself vehemently down upon the blazing spike. At that moment Iliel swooned. She felt that something had happened to her, something tremendous; and her brain turned crazily in her. But as she lost consciousness she was still aware of the last phase of the vision: that the sacrifice of Malkah had created a void in the ranks of the Amazon armies of the Moon; and she saw them and their mist of blue, licked up in the swirl of the vortex. The whole of the invoked forces were sucked up into her as Malkah in her death-agony took possession of that basis of materialization. Heroic — and presumptuous; for of all the qualities that go to make humanity she had but one, and she would have to shift, for the rest, with orts of inheritance. Among mankind she would be a stranger, a being without conscious race-experience, liable to every error that a partial view of life can make. Ill indeed for such a one who is without the wardenship of high initiates! It was for Cyril Grey to keep her unspotted from the world, to utilize those powers which she wielded in pre-eminence from her inheritance in the white sphere of Levanah! When Sister Clara came to summon Iliel, she found her still in swoon. They carried her to her room. At noon she recovered consciousness. Cyril Grey was seated by her bed. To her surprise, he was dressed in mundane attire, an elegant lounge suit of lavender. "Have you seen the papers?" he cried gaily. "Neapolitan Entomologists capture rare butterfly, genus Schedbarshamoth Scharthathan, species Malkah be-Tharshishim ve-Ruachoth ha-Sche-halim!" [232] "Don't talk nonsense, Cyril!" she said, lazily, a little uncertain whether this unexpected apparition were not a dream. "Perfect sense, I assure you, my child. The trick is turned. We have caught our Butterfly!" "Yes, yes," she murmured; "but how did you know?" "Why, use your eyes!" he cried. "Use your br — I should say your sensory organs! Look!" He waved at the window, and Iliel idly followed with her eyes. There could be no mistake. The garden was normal. Every vestige of magical force had disappeared. "Couldn't have gone better," he said. "We don't know where we're going, but we know we're on the way. And, whatever we've got, we've got it." Suddenly her mind ran back to her vision. "Where were you last night,