And, since the idea had come into her bead, she determined to make the attempt.
Up, up she flew, higher and ever higher, till all the air around was full of strange harmonies, as though ten thousand Æolian harps were being breathed upon in accord by a great wind. And all around her, too, the planets whirred and spun and the stars gleamed, and now and again she would pass through mists of luminousness and of gleaming hail.
Up, up she went till she came where there was a great bow of iridescent colours, and rising from it a great array of white steps, that ran up, up, so high that it took away her breath to look upon them. At the top was a great glare of light.
The Queen felt tired and a little bewildered; it seemed as if her wings would bear her no longer or, at least, no higher.
Upon the many-coloured road she stood and looked up the great white way. A voice spoke to her like a great rushing of wind.
"Maiden," it said, "so far and no further."
And a feeling akin to fear came over her; but not fear, for she knew not what guilt was.
And the voice spoke again. "Go down this bow back to the earth, and do the work that is to be done by you. Be of use to your fellows."
And the Queen turned and went her way down the great road. The air was full of voices, glad voices, such that the Queen had never heard before—full of a joy that made her heart leap to hear.
But she could see no one.