Wore the years thus, till now she was grown tall and
thin, and had seen twelve winters, and was far stronger
and handier than at first sight she looked to be.
That found her mistress, and would not forego the
using of her deftness. For indeed the maiden
knew all matters of wood and field full well, and
somewhat of the water also (though no boat had she
ever seen there), for she learned herself swimming,
as the ducks do belike.
But now her mistress would learn her swinking, and
hard was the lesson, for with twiggen rods and switches
was she learned, and was somewhat stubborn with this
woman, who she deemed loved her not; and, however
it were, there began to grow in her an inkling that
all was not well with the dame, and howsoever she
might fear her, she trusted her not, nor worshipped
her; otherwise she had learned her lesson speedily;
for she was not slack nor a sluggard, and hated not
the toil, even when it pained and wearied her, but
against the anger and malice she hardened her heart.
It is to be said, that though there she dwelt alone
with the witch-wife, she had somehow got to know
that they two were not alone in the world, and she
knew of male and female, and young and old. Thereof
doubtless the witch herself had learned her, would
she, would she not; for though she were mostly few-spoken,
yet whiles the tongue of her would loosen, and she
would tell Birdalone tales of men and women, and kings
and warriors and thralls, and the folk of the world
beyond them, if it were but to scare the child.
Yea, and when she rated Birdalone, or girded at her,
words would come forth which the maiden stored up,
and by laying two and two together gat wisdom howso
it were. Moreover, she was of the race of Adam,
and her heart conceived of diverse matters from her
mother’s milk and her father’s blood,
and her heart and her mind grew up along with her body.
Herein also was she wise, to wit, how to give wrath
the go-by, so that she oft found the wood a better
home than the house: for now she knew that the
witch-wife would enter it never; wherefore she loved
it much, and haunted it daily if she might.
Amidst all this she lived not unmerrily; for the earth
was her friend, and solaced her when she had suffered
aught: withal she was soon grown hardy as well
as strong; and evil she could thole, nor let it burden
her with misery.
CHAPTER V. OF BIRDALONE, AND HOW SHE IS GROWN INTO MAIDENHOOD
Wear the years and the years amidst such days as these,
and now is Birdalone grown a dear maiden of seventeen
summers; and yet was her life not unhappy; though
the mirth of her childhood was somewhat chastened
in her, and she walked the earth soberly and measurely,
as though deep thoughts were ever in her head:
though, forsooth, it is not all so sure that her
serious face and solemn eyes were but a part of the
beauty which was growing with the coming forth of childhood
