Old Sirius wore one breadth of it across his stupendous
shoulder, and Aldebaran, with fingers of bronze and fire, drew it
delicately as with golden leashes over the sleeping world.
When first he saw it, there was this gentle fluttering as of wings
through all its intricate parts, but the same moment four shooting
stars pierced its outlying edges with flying nails of gold. It
steadied and grew taut.
'There she is!' cried Monkey, flashing away like a comet towards the
Cave. 'You'll catch it now--and you deserve to!' She turned a
brilliant somersault and vanished.
Then, somehow, the vast Pattern settled into a smaller scale, so that
he saw it closer, clearer, and without confusion. Beauty and wonder
focused for his sight. The perfected design of Daddy's fairy story
floated down into his heart without a hint of wumbling. Never had he
seen it so luminous and simple. For others, of course, meanwhile had
known and understood it. Others believed. Its reality was more
intense, thus, than before.
He rose from the maze of tree-tops where he floated, and stretched his
arms out, no fear or hesitation in him anywhere. Perched in the very
centre of the Pattern, seated like a new-born star upon its throne, he
saw that tiny figure who had thrilled him months ago when he caught it
in a passing instant, fluttering in the web of Daddy's story,--both
its climax and its inspiration.
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