We came to a farmstead where the dogs barked, and folk were still about. Falkenberg asked to see the man. A lad came out. Had he any work for us? No. But the fence there along by the road was all to pieces, if we couldn't mend that, now? No. Man himself had nothing else to do this time of the year. Could they give us shelter for the night? Very sorry, but.... Not in the barn? No, the girls were still sleeping there. “Swine,” muttered Falkenberg, as we moved away. We turned in through a little wood, keeping a look out now for a likely place to sleep. “Suppose we went back to the farm now to the girls in the barn? Like as not they wouldn't turn us out.” Falkenberg thought for a moment. “The dogs will make a row,” he said. We came out into a field where two horses were loose. One had a bell at its neck. “Nice fellow this,” said Falkenberg, “with his horses still out and his womenfolk still sleeping in the barn. It'd be doing these poor beasts a good turn to ride them a bit.” He caught the belled horse, stuffed its bell with grass and moss, and got on its back. My beast was shy, and I had a deal of trouble to get hold of it. We rode across the field, found a gate, and came out on to the road. We each had one of my rugs to sit on, but neither had a bridle. Still, we managed well enough, managed excellently well; we rode close on five miles, and came to another village. Suddenly we heard some one ahead along the road. “Better take it at a gallop,” said Falkenberg over his shoulder. “Come along.” But Falkenberg was no marvel of a horseman, for all his leg; he clutched the bell-strap first, then slithered forward and hung on with both arms round the horse's neck. I caught a glimpse of one of his legs against the sky as he fell off. Fortunately, there was no great danger waiting us after all; only a young couple out sweethearting. Another half-hour's riding, and we were both of us stiff and sore. We got down, turned the horses' faces to home, and drove them off. And now we were foot-passengers once more. _Gakgak, gakgak_--the sound came from somewhere far off. I knew it well; it was the grey goose. When we were children, we were taught to clasp our hands and stand quite still, lest we should frighten the grey goose as it passed. No harm in that; no harm in doing so now. And so I do. A quiet sense of mystery steals through me; I hold my breath and gaze. There it comes, the sky trailing behind it like the wake of a ship. _Gakgak_, high overhead. And the splendid ploughshare glides along beneath the stars.... We found a barn at last, at a farmstead where all was still, and there we slept some hours. They found us next morning sound asleep.