Suddenly, as if some hero had slain the monster, the wind died down, the moon sailed clear of the clouds, and the pines straightened themselves and once more stood at attention, silent and motionless. In spite of this, his horse grew strangely restive, rearing and jibbing, as if something was standing before it in the path that frightened it; and in vain Master Nathaniel tried to quiet and sooth it. Then it shuddered all over and fell heavily to the ground. Fortunately, Master Nathaniel was thrown clear, and was not hurt, beyond the inevitable bruises entailed by the fall of a man of his weight. He struggled to his feet and hurried to his horse. It was stone dead. For some time he sat beside it ... his last link with Lud and familiar things; as yet too depressed in mind and aching in body to continue his journey on foot. But what were those sudden strains of piercingly sweet music, and from what strange instrument did they proceed? They were too impersonal for a fiddle, too passionate for a flute, and much too sweet for any pipes or timbrels. It must be a human--or superhuman--voice, for now he was beginning to distinguish the words. "There are windfalls of dreams, there's a wolf in the stars, And Life is a nymph who will never be thine, With lily, germander, and sops in wine. With sweet-brier, And bon-fire, And strawberry-wire, And columbine." The voice stopped, and Master Nathaniel buried his face in his hands and sobbed as if his heart would break. In this magically sweet music once more he had heard the Note. It held, this time, no menace as to things to come; but it aroused in his breast an agonizing tumult of remorse for having allowed something to escape that he would never, never recapture. It was as if he had left his beloved with harsh words, and had returned to find her dead. Through his agony he was conscious of a hand laid on his shoulder: "Why, Chanticleer! Old John o' Dreams! What ails you? Has the cock's crow become too bitter-sweet for Chanticleer?" said a voice, half tender and half mocking, in his ear. He turned round, and by the light of the moon saw standing behind him--Duke Aubrey. The Duke smiled. "Well, Chanticleer," he said, "so we meet at last! Your family has been dodging me down the centuries, but some day you were bound to fall into my snares. And, though you did not know it, you have been working for some time past as one of my secret agents. How I laughed when you and Ambrose Honeysuckle pledged each other in words taken from my Mysteries! And little did you think, when you stood cursing and swearing at the door of my tapestry-room, that you had pronounced the most potent charm in Faerie," and he threw back his head and broke into peal upon peal of silvery laughter. Suddenly his laughter stopped, and his eyes, as he looked at Master Nathaniel, became wonderfully compassionate.