Gro said, “My Lord Corinius, choose I pray thee another who shall be fitter than I to do this errand for thee;” and so for a long time most earnestly besought him. But Corinius, the more he perceived the duty hateful to Gro, the firmer became his resolution that none but Gro should undertake it. So that in the end Gro perforce consented, and in the same hour went with eleven up to the gates of Krothering, and a white flag of truce was borne before him. He sent his herald up to the gate to desire speech of the Lady Mevrian. And in a while the gates were opened, and she came down attended to meet Lord Gro in the open garden before the bridge-gate. It was by then late afternoon, and the burning sun swam low amid streaked level clouds incarnadine, setting aflame the waters of Thunderfirth with the reflection of his beams. From the horizon, high beyond the pine-clad hills of Westmark, a range of clouds reared themselves, solid and of an iron hue; so hard-edged against the vapoury sky of sunset, that they seemed substantial mountains, not clouds: unearthly mountains (a man might fancy) divinely raised up for Demonland, for whom not all her ancient hills gave any longer refuge against her enemies. Here, in Krothering gates, wintersweet and the little purple daphne bush that blooms before the leaf breathed fragrance abroad. Yet was it not this sweetness in the air that troubled the Lord Gro, nor that western glory burning that dazzled his eyes; but to look upon that lady standing in the gate, white-skinned and dark, like the divine Huntress, tall and proud and lovely. Mevrian, seeing him speechless, said at last, “My lord, I heard thou hadst some errand to declare unto me. And seeing a great camp of war gathered under Erngate End, and having heard of robbers and evil-doers rife about the land these many moons, I look not for soft speech. Take heart, therefore, and declare plainly what ill thou meanest.” Gro answered and said, “Tell me first if thou that speakest art in truth the Lady Mevrian, that I may know whether to human kind I speak or to some Goddess come down from the shining floor of heaven.” She answered, “Of thy compliments I have nought to do. I am she thou namest.” “Madam,” said Lord Gro, “I would not have brought your highness this message nor delivered it, but that I know full well that did I refuse it another should bear it thee full speedily, and with less compliment and less sorrow than I.” She nodded gravely, as who should say, Proceed. So, with what countenance he might, he rehearsed his message, saying when it was ended, “Thus, madam, saith Corinius the king: and thus he charged me deliver it unto your highness.” Mevrian heard him attentively with head erect. When he had done she was silent a little, still studying him. Then she spake: “Methinks I know thee now. Thou art Lord Gro of Goblinland that bearest me this message.” Gro answered, “Madam, he thou namest went years ago from this earth. I am Lord Gro of Witchland.”