Death’s godson followed her numbly into an enormous cavern. The floor was covered with thousands upon thousands of lighted candles of all sizes.
‘What are these candles, Godmother?’ he enquired.
‘Each candle represents a human life, my godson,’ she said. ‘The very tall ones are the lives of the newborn; the medium-sized ones are those of folk in middle years; and the shortest ones are those of the old and ailing;
Death stopped suddenly before a candle whose feeble flame was flickering weakly.
‘Godmother,’ said the doctor, ‘whose flame of life is that’
‘It is the flame of your beloved princess, and it must soon go out. I cannot prevent her death.’
Death’s godson looked in sadness at his godmother as she went on, ‘I can but offer you, my only godson, the fate which must befall all men at some time or another. I am the sole possessor of the dreadful power which enables me to unite you with your loved one. Death will not keek you apart. I shall extinguish you flame as well. That will be my final gift to you.’
Her icy breath filled the cave.
At once Death’s godson fell down at her feet as the two candles flickered and died together.