Charles W. Whistler, A Prince of Cornwall
“ Soon the murmur of the song seemed to get into my brain, as it were, and the sparkle of the gold in the sunlight wove itself into strange circles of light before my eyes, widening and narrowing in mystic curves that dazzled me, until at last I would look no longer, and with an effort I turned my head and glanced at Howel to ask if this foolishness should not be ended.But he shook his head."Let him be," he said in a whisper. "It is ill to anger a crazed man. Surely he will tell what we need soon."But beside him Evan seemed to be shrinking as in terror. ”
