"Your sight, young man, is better than that of most who take this way.
The night is stormy: come to my house and tell me what I can do for
you."
Mossy followed him. The waves flew from before the footsteps of the Old
Man of the Sea, and Mossy followed upon dry sand.
When they had reached the cave, they sat down and gazed at each other.
Now Mossy was an old man by this time. He looked much older than the
Old Man of the Sea, and his feet were very weary.
After looking at him for a moment, the old man took him by the hand and
led him into his inner cave. There he helped him to undress, and laid
him in the bath. And he saw that one of his hands Mossy did not open.
"What have you in that hand?" he asked.
Mossy opened his hand, and there lay the golden key.
"Ah!" said the old man, "that accounts for your knowing me. And I know
the way you have to go."
"I want to find the country whence the shadows fall," said Mossy.
"I dare say you do. So do I. But meantime, one thing is certain.--What
is that key for, do you think?"
"For a key-hole somewhere. But I don't know why I keep it. I never
could find the key-hole. And I have lived a good while, I believe,"
said Mossy, sadly. "I'm not sure that I'm not old. I know my feet
ache."
"Do they?" said the old man, as if he really meant to ask the question;
and Mossy, who was still lying in the bath, watched his feet for a
moment before he replied,--"No, they do not. Perhaps I am not old
either."
"Get up and look at yourself in the water."
He rose and looked at himself in the water, and there was not a gray
hair on his head or a wrinkle on his skin.
"You have tasted of death now," said the old man. "Is it good?"
"It is good," said Mossy. "It is better than life."
"No, said the old man: it is only more life.--Your feet will make no
holes in the water now."
"What do you mean?"
"I will show you that presently."
They returned to the outer cave, and sat and talked together for a long
time. At length the Old Man of the Sea rose, and said to Mossy,--
"Follow me."
He led him up the stair again, and opened another door. They stood on
the level of the raging sea, looking towards the east. Across the waste
of waters, against the bosom of a fierce black cloud, stood the foot of
a rainbow, glowing in the dark.
"This indeed is my way," said Mossy, as soon as he saw the rainbow, and
stepped out upon the sea. His feet made no holes in the water. He
fought the wind, and clomb the waves, and went on towards the rainbow.
The storm died away. A lovely day and a lovelier night followed. A cool
wind blew over the wide plain of the quiet ocean. And still Mossy
journeyed eastward. But the rainbow had vanished with the storm.
Day after day he held on, and he thought he had no guide. He did not
see how a shining fish under the water directed his steps. He crossed
the sea, and came to a great precipice of rock, up which he could
discover but one path. Nor did this lead him farther than half-way up
the rock, where it ended on a platform. Here he stood and pondered.--It
could not be that the way stopped here, else what was the path for? It
was a rough path, not very plain, yet certainly a path.--He examined
the face of the rock. It was smooth as glass. But as his eyes kept
roving hopelessly over it, something glittered, and he caught sight of
a row of small sapphires. They bordered a little hole in the rock.
"The key-hole!" he cried.
He tried the key. It fitted. It turned. A great clang and clash, as of
iron bolts on huge brazen caldrons, echoed thunderously within. He drew
out the key. The rock in front of him began to fall. He retreated from
it as far as the breadth of the platform would allow. A great slab fell
at his feet. In front was still the solid rock, with this one slab
fallen forward out of it. But the moment he stepped upon it, a second
fell, just short of the edge of the first, making the next step of a
stair, which thus kept dropping itself before him as he ascended into
the heart of the precipice. It led him into a hall fit for such an
approach--irregular and rude in formation, but floor, sides, pillars,
and vaulted roof, all one mass of shining stones of every colour that
light can show. In the centre stood seven columns, ranged from red to
violet. And on the pedestal of one of them sat a woman, motionless,
with her face bowed upon her knees. Seven years had she sat there
waiting. She lifted her head as Mossy drew near. It was Tangle. Her
hair had grown to her feet, and was rippled like the windless sea on
broad sands. Her face was beautiful, like her grandmother's, and as
still and peaceful as that of the Old Man of the Fire. Her form was
tall and noble. Yet Mossy knew her at once.
"How beautiful you are, Tangle!" he said, in delight and astonishment.
"Am I?" she returned. "Oh, I have waited for you so long! But you, you
are like the Old Man of the Sea. No. You are like the Old Man of the
Earth. No, no. You are like the oldest man of all. You are like them
all. And yet you are my own old Mossy! How did you come here? What did
you do after I lost you? Did you find the key-hole? Have you got the
key still?"
She had a hundred questions to ask him, and he a hundred more to ask
her. They told each other all their adventures, and were as happy as
man and woman could be. For they were younger and better, and stronger
and wiser, than they had ever been before.
It began to grow dark. And they wanted more than ever to reach the
country whence the shadows fall. So they looked about them for a way
out of the cave. The door by which Mossy entered had closed again, and
there was half a mile of rock between them and the sea. Neither could
Tangle find the opening in the floor by which the serpent had led her
thither. They searched till it grew so dark that they could see
nothing, and gave it up.
After a while, however, the cave began to glimmer again. The light came
from the moon, but it did not look like moonlight, for it gleamed
through those seven pillars in the middle, and filled the place with
all colours. And now Mossy saw that there was a pillar beside the red
one, which he had not observed before. And it was of the same new
colour that he had seen in the rainbow when he saw it first in the
fairy forest. And on it he saw a sparkle of blue. It was the sapphires
round the key-hole.
He took his key. It turned in the lock to the sound of Aeolian music. A
door opened upon slow hinges, and disclosed a winding stair within. The
key vanished from his fingers. Tangle went up. Mossy followed. The door
closed behind them. They climbed out of the earth; and, still climbing,
rose above it. They were in the rainbow. Far abroad, over ocean and
land, they could see through its transparent walls the earth beneath
their feet. Stairs beside stairs wound up together, and beautiful
beings of all ages climbed along with them.
They knew that they were going up to the country whence the shadows
fall.
And by this time I think they must have got there.