With incredible agility for her age she led the way, over several streams of shallow water, over rolling stones and wet sand, to a small island in the middle of the river's bed. Eric marvelled at the rapidity with which she moved along, helping herself with her stick; above their heads the white falcon flew, as always, showing the way. Here the willows grew thick and grey, trailing their sinuous branches down to the ground where they mixed with earth and sand. The gypsy parted the thick boughs, and as she did so a sound of sweet music came wafted on the air, dream-like, something within its notes that was at once both ghostly and unreal, something that made the heart stand still in an ecstasy of wonder. Eric's leader scrambled up the steep bank, still firmly clutching his cloak, and almost ran along, winding her way in and out, amongst the thick growth of shrubs. There was deep shade here in this silent place. A soft grey-green light was over all, only from between the leaves the sky could be seen blood-red. The ground was covered with a thick carpet of harebells the colour of an Italian sky; they swayed their heads with a tinkling sound whenever a breath of wind stirred the air. It was a spot where fairies would surely dwell, mysterious, cool, and full of secret promise. And there, in the midst of this carpet of blue, leaning against a moss-grown crumbling tree, was a spirit-like being out of another world! [Illustration: _And there, leaning against a moss-grown crumbling tree, was a spirit-like being out of another world._] No words can describe what Eric felt! He only knew he was at the end of his way ... that all his wanderings were not in vain--that something marvellous and unspeakably sweet had suddenly flooded earth and sky, that the entire universe had become one song of praise, one cry of hope, one yearning desire of fulfilment.... There, before him in all their wonder and perfection, were the face and eyes that had stolen the peace from his soul and the art from his hands. He fell on his knees, overcome by the surging emotion that filled heart and brain. He could not grasp this amazing miracle that completely overwhelmed his being; the hermit's words alone rang in his ears: "It may not come in splendid raiment with a crown on its head, but keep thy heart open as well as thy eyes...." Yes, his eyes and heart both were open and a glorious light swept over his life, like a warm wave before which all resistance gives way, covering both past and future, with an immense longing for perfect achievement.