What if the angel, to try her, had taken to himself the form of the beast-boy?
No beast-boy could sing like what she had heard, or look like what she now saw! She lay motionless, flat on the ground, her face turned sideways upon her hands, and her eyes fixed on the heavenly vision.
Then a curious feeling began to wake in her of having seen him before--somewhere, ever so long ago--and that sight of him as well as this had to do with misery--with something that made a stain that would not come out.

Yes--it was the very face, only larger, and still sweeter, of the little naked child whom Angus had so cruelly lashed! That was ages ago, but she had not forgotten, and never could forget either the child's back, or the lovely innocent white face that he turned round upon her.

If it was indeed he, perhaps he would remember her.

In any case, she was now certain he would not hurt her.
While she looked at him thus, Gibbie's face grew grave: seldom was his grave when fronting the face of a fellow-creature, but now he too was remembering, and trying to recollect; as through a dream of sickness and pain he saw a face like the one before him, yet not the same.
Ginevra recollected first, and a sweet slow diffident smile crept like a dawn up from the depth of her under-world to the sky of her face, but settled in her eyes, and made two stars of them.

Then rose the very sun himself in Gibbie's, and flashed a full response of daylight--a smile that no woman, girl, or matron, could mistrust.
From brow to chin his face was radiant.