Slowly, very slowly, it crept along her robe until it reached her bosom, where it disappeared among the folds.
The face of the princess lay stonily calm, the eyelids closed as over dead eyes; and for some minutes nothing followed.

At length, on the dry, parchment-like skin, began to appear drops as of the finest dew: in a moment they were as large as seed-pearls, ran together, and began to pour down in streams.

I darted forward to snatch the worm from the poor withered bosom, and crush it with my foot.

But Mara, Mother of Sorrow, stepped between, and drew aside the closed edges of the robe: no serpent was there--no searing trail; the creature had passed in by the centre of the black spot, and was piercing through the joints and marrow to the thoughts and intents of the heart.

The princess gave one writhing, contorted shudder, and I knew the worm was in her secret chamber.
"She is seeing herself!" said Mara; and laying her hand on my arm, she drew me three paces from the settle.
Of a sudden the princess bent her body upward in an arch, then sprang to the floor, and stood erect.