The Golden Key | Page 8

leaves, no birds were
visible.
After a while, they reached more open spaces, where the shadows were
thinner; and came even to portions over which shadows only flitted,
leaving them clear for such as might follow. Now a wonderful form,
half bird-like half human, would float across on outspread sailing

pinions. Anon an exquisite shadow group of gambolling children would
be followed by the loveliest female form, and that again by the grand
stride of a Titanic shape, each disappearing in the surrounding press of
shadowy foliage. Sometimes a profile of unspeakable beauty or
grandeur would appear for a moment and vanish. Sometimes they
seemed lovers that passed linked arm in arm, sometimes father and son,
sometimes brothers in loving contest, sometimes sisters entwined in
gracefullest community of complex form. Sometimes wild horses
would tear across, free, or bestrode by noble shadows of ruling men.
But some of the things which pleased them most they never knew how
to describe.
About the middle of the plain they sat down to rest in the heart of a
heap of shadows. After sitting for a while, each, looking up, saw the
other in tears: they were each longing after the country whence the
shadows fell.
"We MUST find the country from which the shadows come," said
Mossy.
"We must, dear Mossy," responded Tangle. "What if your golden key
should be the key to it?"
"Ah! that would be grand," returned Mossy.--" But we must rest here
for a little, and then we shall be able to cross the plain before night."
So he lay down on the ground, and about him on every side, and over
his head, was the constant play of the wonderful shadows. He could
look through them, and see the one behind the other, till they mixed in
a mass of darkness. Tangle, too, lay admiring, and wondering, and
longing after the country whence the shadows came. When they were
rested they rose and pursued their journey.
How long they were in crossing this plain I cannot tell; but before night
Mossy's hair was streaked with grey, and Tangle had got wrinkles on
her forehead.
As evening drew on, the shadows fell deeper and rose higher. At length

they reached a place where they rose above their heads, and made all
dark around them. Then they took hold of each other's hand, and
walked on in silence and in some dismay. They felt the gathering
darkness, and something strangely solemn besides, and the beauty of
the shadows ceased to delight them. All at once Tangle found that she
had not a hold of Mossy's hand, though when she lost it she could not
tell.
"Mossy, Mossy!" she cried aloud in terror.
But no Mossy replied.
A moment after, the shadows sank to her feet, and down under her feet,
and the mountains rose before her. She turned towards the gloomy
region she had left, and called once more upon Mossy. There the gloom
lay tossing and heaving, a dark stormy, foamless sea of shadows, but
no Mossy rose out of it, or came climbing up the hill on which she
stood. She threw herself down and wept in despair.
Suddenly she remembered that the beautiful lady had told them, if they
lost each other in a country of which she could not remember the name,
they were not to be afraid, but to go straight on.
"And besides," she said to herself, "Mossy has the golden key, and so
no harm will come to him, I do believe."
She rose from the ground, and went on.
Before long she arrived at a precipice, in the face of which a stair was
cut. When she had ascended halfway, the stair ceased, and the path led
straight into the mountain. She was afraid to enter, and turning again
towards the stair, grew giddy at the sight of the depth beneath her, and
was forced to throw herself down in the mouth of the cave.
When she opened her eyes, she saw a beautiful little creature with
wings standing beside her, waiting.
"I know you," said Tangle. "You are my fish."

"Yes. But I am a fish no longer. I am an a‘ranth now."
"What is that?" asked Tangle.
"What you see I am," answered the shape. "And I am come to lead you
through the mountain."
"Oh! thank you, dear fish--a‘ranth, I mean," returned Tangle, rising.
Thereupon the a‘ranth took to his wings, and flew on through the long
narrow passage, reminding Tangle very much of the way he had swum
on before her when he was a fish. And the moment his white wings
moved, they began to throw off a continuous shower of sparks of all
colours, which lighted up the passage before them. All at once he
vanished, and Tangle