THE KING OF ELFLAND’S DAUGHTER
much of the years to be that he feared to face them without this last great potency.
“Beyond our border,” he said, “material things stand fierce and strong and many, and have the power to darken and to increase, for they have wonders too. And when this last potency be used and gone there remains in all our realm no rune that they dread; and material things will multiply and put the powers in bondage, and we without any rune of which they go in awe shall become no more than a fable. We must yet store this rune.”
Thus he reasoned with her rather than com- manded, though he was the founder and King of all those lands, and all that wandered in them and of the light in which they shone. And reason in Elfland was no daily thing, but an exotic wonder. With this he sought to soothe her earthward fancies.
And Lirazel made no answer but only wept, weeping tears of enchanted dew. And all the line of the Elfin Mountains quivered, as wandering winds will tremble to notes of a violin that have strayed beyond hearing down the ways of the air; and all the creatures of fable that dwelt in the realm of Elfland felt something strange in their hearts like the dying away of a song.
“Is it not best for Elfland that I do this?” said the King.
And still she only wept.
And then he sighed and considered the welfare of Elfland again. For Elfland drew its happiness from
