The profound, the starry night. All the stars, all the moons and the earths, aspects and moods of a Mighty One! Power, Wisdom, Goodness, Beauty.—
Richard Englefield’s body sat still as a stone. Most is done, seen and felt in a moment. The vastest takes no time, but the placing of that moment took time. The wold changed, the night and day, the here and there, the now and then, the you and I, all the opposites.
At last he rose and moved out upon the wold. He did not know which way Morgen had gone, but she was here, as he was here. He stood with a deep and quiet heart, looking forth over the lonely and happy wold. The moon shone, a light and musical wind rose and fell. He was aware of an immense tranquility with something of awe running through like a clean fragrance, like myrrh. It was so still, it was so wide and deep and high.
He turned slightly, as though a hand had drawn him. He saw on the wold the great picture, the Blessed among women.
Eyes ceased in light. Other eyes opened.
Out of the quiet dark came Morgen Fay and kneeled beside him. “Let me tell—for one instant—ah, the instant!—I saw us as the All. I saw thee in light, and then I saw us as the All.”
CHAPTER XXIX
It was still the wold when under pale fine sunshine they came to a smithy, rude and poor, set beneath a long wave, where a road went by. Lonely was the wold, lonely and lonely, yet folk did travel across it. Here, too, horses must be shod and cart and wagon mended, though not many nor often. But the place seemed dilapidated, the smith an old man. He could not do, he said, what was needed to be done. Custom, if you could call it custom, was dwindling; he needed a helper. He looked at Englefield and said that he seemed a strong fellow now! “What might be your name?”