Thereupon Atalanta sat down at the board beside the stranger, and they fell to with all the appetite of youth and health; and as they ate they laughed and joked, and talked of strange lands they both had seen and adventures that had befallen them. In the space of one half-hour they were as good friends as though they had known each other all their lives, and suitors who had sat at her father's board day after day were much more strangers to Atalanta than this man, who had craved but one night's hospitality. When they had finished their meal the stranger rose. "I must bid thee farewell, lady," he said. "Nay, not yet," she replied; "I will set thee on thy way, and show thee a road through the forest that will bring thee to the city thou seekest. I know every track and path as well as the wild deer know them." He tried to dissuade her, but she would not listen, and led him out from the palace by a side-gate, which she unbarred with her own hands. Down through the sleeping streets they went, where the shadows of the houses lay long upon the ground, and out across the open downs into the shade of the forest. The dew gleamed like jewels on the leaves, as here and there the slanting rays of the sun shone through the trees, and above their heads the lark sang gaily in the bright summer sky. Yet they walked silently side by side, as though, in spite of the brightness of the day, sorrow and not joy were sitting in their hearts; and all their gay talk and laughter of the early morning was dead. At length they came to a broad track that crossed the path they were in, and Atalanta stopped short and pointed to the right. "From here," she said, "thou canst not miss thy way. Follow the track till it lead thee to the high-road, and when thou strikest the high-road, turn to the left, and thou wilt come to the city thou seekest." Then she held out her hand to him. "I must bid thee farewell," she said, "and good luck to the ending of thy vow." "Lady," he said, and took her hand in his, "if thou wilt, thou canst release me now from my vow." But she drew her hand away sharply and tossed back her head. "Many kings have daughters besides King Schoenus," she said, "and any one of them could release thee from thy vow as well as I." "Atalanta," he said, "no king's daughter save thee shall ever release me from my vow. That which all our laughter and our converse last night and this morning strove to hide, our silence, as we walked side by side, has revealed far better than I can tell thee. Thou knowest that I love thee. From the first moment that I saw thee I have loved thee." His words made her heart thrill with a strange joy. But she showed no sign of it, and answered him coldly. She was proud and wished to test him. "Doubtless the flood-gates of love are easily thrown open where a man would be released from a vow. Thou knowest how thou mayest win me. Art thou willing to run in the race?"