A thrill of horror swept through me when I heard these words, and made me tremble. A moment before I had called myself a fool for being afraid of a jumping-jack, and now at the very mention of such a toy the old terror came back. I knew that I could not escape, because I would not dare to face a jumping-jack again. I would be sure to succumb to its influence.
“But,” continued Adalga, “why should you be afraid of being dissected? Can you not create for yourself a new body again?”
“Nonsense!” I cried. “I am not a creator.”
“But, sure enough,” answered the princess, “you have a creative spirit in you. Oh, my dear Mulligan, why will you remain incognito among us? Why do you continue to be dark? Why will you disguise yourself before me? Is it that I am not worthy to behold your true light, or that my eyes would be dazzled by its splendour? Lord of my heart, unveil yourself to me! Show yourself to me in your own essence!”
“Dearest princess!” I replied, “I do not know what you are talking about. I am not luminous, and I never saw a luminous man. In our country nobody has a light of his own.”
“Alas!” said the princess, “what a fearful fate it must be to have no light, and to live in a country of perpetual darkness.”
To this I replied—
“This is not so. Nobody in our country needs a light of his own, because we have one great luminary, called the sun, right over our head, and the light of that sun illuminates our world.”
“And can everybody see that sun?” asked the princess.
“Of course,” I said. “Everybody, unless he is as blind as a bat.”