brothers, they made light of the matter; but when they knew all the truth, swore great oaths that their sister should not go. [Illustration] Days and weeks went quickly by in cloud and sunshine. Each night the little load of trouble, or it might be peace, that the day had gathered, slipped away into the Great Storehouse, and was forgotten. One wretched thought only remained in the darkness and silence to perplex the hapless merchant with a dull surprise and bewildered dread of what soon or late must come. As for Beauty, since her father hid within himself the secret terror that after the busy day was done, laid wait and beset for him the dark hours, she wasted small care on aught, but how best to make cheer in their poor house. But ofttimes would a sharp pain strike athwart the father’s heart, when at evening he wended home from the fishing or the field. Then, perchance, after the cliff was climbed, he would look towards Beauty’s casement in the tower--there, amid bud and blossom, a face would smile down upon him, fairer than any rose. For in some old earthen pot, that dear-bought briar had been set, and it had taken root and grown into a goodly plant. And Beauty tended it well, and loved her blooming rose-tree, and never a doubt nor fear of any deadly Beast beclouded her strong heart. [Illustration] But now, when summer-tide was full, on a blue June day, when his sons were all away in the fields, the man looked wanly in his young daughter’s face; and she, well knowing what that was he would say to her, went and wrapt a grey mantle round her, and set forth with him to the outward gate. And there she bade farewell to her sisters, who followed, making some hollow show of false sorrow. Tenderly her father lifted up the maid and set her upon a lean rough-coated farm horse, which awaited them, tied to the gate. And then, leading the horse by the bridle-rein,--as in a dream,--they fared forth together on their fateful way. Soon the steep path that had wound through barren rocks, began to cross the sandy plain, and before the sun was high, they had passed on into a beautiful green world of young corn, all bedashed with jewelled blooms of blue and scarlet and gold, between the thin-eared ranks. Loud sang under the white clouds, whole heavenward companies of the quivering, grey-winged bird. White cottage walls gleamed under deep thatch, each one in its little close of orchard or of fragrant walnut-trees. And upon the upland slopes lay many a fair homestead, half seen amid the crowding of rich corn-stacks. And so the narrowing way led on to the storm blown pines and thickets of dwarf oak, which crowned a dark line of hill above. Slowly they toiled up the height, for the noonday sun shone hotly down; and there under the shade the twain stayed a while, and undid the little store of food they had to eat by the way, and let their wearied beast go, in the scanty grass near by. When long shadows stretched over the land, they were afoot once more.