So they turned up into the orchard: and now
was Viridis of good cheer, and Aurea no less; but
Atra lagged behind, and as she went, some passion
took her, she knew not wherefore; her bosom swelled,
her shoulders heaved therewith, and she wept.
CHAPTER IX. HOW BIRDALONE CAME TO THE ISLE OF THE YOUNG AND THE OLD
All went well with Birdalone when she had left the
Isle of Increase Unsought, much as it had on her first
voyage, save that now she was both clad and victualled,
and her heart, if yet it harboured fear, was also
full of new and strange hope; and oft, even as she
sat there amidst the waste of waters, she wondered
what new longing this was which wrought so sweet a
pain in her, that it made her cheeks burn, and her
eyes dim, and her hands and her limbs restless.
And then would she set her mind to her friends and
their errand, and would hope and pray for them; but
again would she fall to picture to herself what manner
of men they were who were so sore longed for by those
three beauteous women; and she deemed that since they
were thus desired, they must be fairer even than her
friends of the isle; and again the nameless longing
overtook her, and held her till it wearied her into
sleep.
When she awoke again the boat had stayed, and she
was come aland; but the dawn was not yet come, and
the night was moonless, yet was there light enough
to see, from the water and the stars, that the bows
of the boat were lying safe on a little sandy beach.
So she stepped out and looked around, and deemed
she could see great trees before her, and imagined
also dark masses of she knew not what. So she
walked warily up the said strand till she came on
to soft grass, and smelled the scent of the clover
as her foot-soles crushed it. There she sat
down, and presently lay along and went to sleep.
After a while she awoke, and felt happy and well at
ease, and had no will to move: the sun was shining
brightly, but had not been up long: the song
of birds was all about her, but amidst it she deemed
she heard some speech of man, though it were not like
to what she had heard in her life before. So
she raised herself on her elbow, and looked up and
saw a new thing, and sat up now, and beheld and wondered.
For there stood before her, gazing wide-eyed on her,
two little children, some three winters of age, a
man and a woman as it seemed. The man-child with
light and fine white-golden hair, falling straight
down and square over his brow, and blue-grey eyes which
were both kind and merry, and shyly seeking as it
were. Plump and rosy he was, sturdy and stout-limbed.
No less fair was the woman; her hair golden-brown,
as oft it is with children who grow up dark-haired,
and curling in fair little rings all over her head;
her eyes were big and dark grey; she was thinner than
the lad, and somewhat taller.
These two babes had between them a milk-white she-goat,
and had been playing with her, and now she turned
her head to this and that one of them, bleating, as
if to crave more of the game; but they had no eyes
for her, but stood staring with might and main on the
new-comer and her shining golden gown.
