"Oh, when it knows!" said she. "Then the flower of the fruit will leap through the bud, and the moon will leap like a lamb on the hills of the sky, and April will leap in the veins of the year, and the river will leap with the fury of Spring, and the headlong heart will cry in the body of youth, I will not be a slave, but I will be the lord of life, because--" "Because?" said Young Gerard. "Because I will!" Young Gerard said nothing, and they sat together in a long silence in the darkness, and time went by filling the sky with stars. Now as they sat the hilltop once more began to waver with shadows and voices, but this time the shadows came on heavy feet and weary, and the voices were forlorn. One feebly cried, "Hola!" And round the belt of trees straggled the rout that had left them an hour or so earlier. But now they were sodden and dejected, draggled and woebegone, as sorry a spectacle as so many drowned rats. "Fire!" moaned one. "Fire! fire!" "Who's burning?" said Young Gerard, and got quickly on his feet; but he did not see the two he looked for. "None's burning, fool, but many are drowning. Do we not look like drowned men? How shall we ever get back to Combe Ivy, and warmth and drink and comforts? Would we were burning!" "What has happened?" the boy demanded. "We went in search of the ferry," he said, "but the ferry was drowned too." "We couldn't find the ferry," said a second. "No," mumbled a third, "the river had drunk it up. Where there were paths there are brooks, and where there were meadows, lakes." The miserable crew broke out into plaints and questions--"Have you no fire? have you no food? no coverings?" "None," said Young Gerard. "Where is the bride?" "Have you do drink?" "Where is the bride?" "The groom stumbled," said one. "Let us to Combe Ivy, in comfort's name. There'll be drink there." He staggered down the hill, and his fellows made after him. But Young Gerard sprang upon one, and gripped him by the shoulder and shook him, and for the third time cried: "Where is the bride?" "In the water," he answered heavily, "because--there was--no wine." Then he dragged himself out of the boy's grasp, and fell down the hill after his companions. Young Gerard stood for one instant listening and holding his breath. Suddenly he said, "My lost lamb, crying on the hills." He ran into the shed and looked about, and snatched from the settle the green and cherry cloak, and from the wall the crystal and silver lantern. He struck a spark from a flint and lit the wick. It burned brightly and steadily. Then he ran out of the shed. The old woman rose up in his path. "That's a good light," said she, "and a warm cloak." "Don't stop me!" said Young Gerard, and ran on. She nodded, and as he vanished in one direction, she vanished in the other.