Birdalone wept; but presently she fell to caressing
the mother’s hand, and said: This is thy
doing, wherein thou hast made me wise. Yet fear
not: for I deem that the witch-wife will not
slay me, whereas she looketh to have some gain of
me; moreover, in the evil of her heart is mingled
some love toward me, whereof, as erst I told thee,
I have a morsel of compassion. Mother, she will
not slay me; and I say that she shall not torment
me, for I will compel her to slay me else. It
is my mind that she will let me go. Said the
mother: Yea, mayhappen, yet but as a bird with
a string to its leg. If it be so, said Birdalone,
then let my luck prevail over her guile; as well it
may be, since I have known thee, O wise mother!
The wood-wife hung her head and spake nought for a
while; then she said: I see that thou wilt have
it so, and that there is something in thine heart
which we, who are not children of Adam, may not understand;
yet once wert thou more like unto us. Now all
I may say is, that thou must rule in this matter,
and that I am sad.
Then she looked down again and presently raised a
brighter face, and said: Belike all shall be
better than I thought. Then she kissed Birdalone
and they parted for that time.
CHAPTER XIX. THEY BID FAREWELL, BIRDALONE AND THE WOOD-MOTHER
Now April was gone, and May was come with the thorn
a-blossoming, and there was Birdalone waxing still
in loveliness. And now the witch had left all
girding at her even, and spake to her but little, save
when she needs must. But to Birdalone it seemed
that she watched her exceeding closely.
Birdalone went oft to the wood, and learned yet more
of lore: but of the matter of the Departure,
how it was to be gone about they spake no more, and
great was the love betwixt them.
At last when May was worn nigh to June came Birdalone
to the Oak of Tryst, and found the wood-mother there;
and when they had talked a while, but ever from the
teeth out, spake Habundia: Though thou be now
the wiser of us two maybe, yet have I wisdom to wot
that this is the hour of our sundering, and that to-morrow
thou wilt try the adventure of the Sending Boat:
is it not so? Yea, mother, said Birdalone;
I bid thee farewell now: woe is me therefor!
Said Habundia: And thou wilt deliver thyself
into the hands of the witch, wilt thou, as thou saidst
that other day? Quoth Birdalone: Is it
not wisdom, dear mother, if I trust in my goodhap?
Alas, said the mother, it may be so when all is said.
But O my sad heart! and how I fear for thee!
My mother, my mother! said Birdalone, that I should
make the days grievous unto thee! and thou who hast
made my days so joyous! But now canst thou not
say of thy wisdom that we shall meet again?
The wood-woman sat down, and let her head fall over
her knees, and was silent a long while; then she rose
up and stood before Birdalone, and said: Yea,
we shall meet again, howsoever it may be. Let
us depart with that sweet word in the air between
us. Yet first thou shalt give me a tress of
thine hair, as I did to thee when first we met; for
by means of it may I know to-morrow how thou hast sped.
