Who told the Silver Birch tree The stories that we made? And how can she remember The very games we played? Who told her heart of silver That, almost from her birth, The roots of that old Pine tree Had sought hers under earth? For always when the wind blows Her hair about the wood, It blows across my eyes too Her pictured solitude. And then Aventures gather On little hidden feet, And mystery and laughter The magic things repeat. For, O my Silver Birch tree, Full half the ‘things’ we do, We did—or e’er you sweetened The starlight and the dew! They stood there, all in order, Ready and waiting even, Before the sunlight kissed you, Or you, the winds of heaven. Who told you, then, O Birch Tree, The ’Ventures that we play? And how can you remember The wonder—and the Way? CHAPTER XXIII PANTHEA. Look, sister, where a troop of spirits gather Like flocks of cloud in spring’s delightful weather, Thronging in the blue air! IONE. And see! More come. Like fountain-vapours when the winds are dumb, That climb up the ravines in scattered lines. And hark! Is it the music of the pines? Is it the lake? Is it the waterfall? PANTHEA. ’Tis something sadder, sweeter far than all. _Prometheus Unbound._ ‘It’s all very well for you two to play at being trees,’ the voice of Joan was heard to object, ‘but I should like to know what part I——’ ‘Hush! Hush! I hear them coming,’ Nixie said quickly with a new excitement. She had apparently floated up higher into the ilex to the place vacated by Jonah. Her voice had a ring of the sky in it. ‘Come up to where I am, and we can _all_ see. They’re rising already——’ ‘Who—what’s rising?’ called Joan from below; ‘I’m not!’ ‘There’s something up, I expect,’ said Paul quickly. ‘I’ll help you.’ He knew by the child’s voice there was aventure afoot. ‘Give me your hand, Joan. And put your feet where I tell you. We’re all in the Crack, remember, so everything’s possible.’ ‘Undoubtedly something’s up, but it’s not _me_, I’m afraid,’ she laughed. ‘Hush! Hush! Hush!’ Nixie’s voice reached them from the higher branches. ‘Talk in whispers, please, or you’ll frighten them. And be quick. They’re rising everywhere. Any minute now they may be off and you’ll miss them——’