So he stood thinking his own thoughts, and the shadows grew and the moon rose, and then an owl hooted in the woods, and his mind went back to the days when, with brave Wahrmund, he had stood in the woods of East Anglia and had heard the sign which first called Alfred to his side. But after the owl, there came the sound of another song--the song of a tiny night-singer telling his love tale to his little mate, and the song flowed like a stream of melody, like the purling of the brooklet in the moonlight, like the voice of the wavelets on the shelly sands, like the whispering of the night wind to the bending trees. It got into the heart of Wulnoth, and he stood listening, a smile on his face, and he thought how much better this was than the song of the sword or the hiss of the flames as they burst through the roof, and he said softly-- "Sing, sing, little bird--sing to thy shy mate whom thou lovest; but though I may not sing as sweetly, thy song is no gladder than is mine when I think of my Princess. O night-singer, would that I could learn thy song and so sing to my love--to my Edgiva!" Then a little voice spoke in his ear, and a little hand stole around his neck, and the voice said softly-- "But, perchance, thy Edgiva might better love to hear thy words in thine own voice than in the sweetest tones of the night-singer, Wulnoth." And he turned and beheld his Princess, and he took her in his arms, and she made no struggle, but yielded gladly as a tired bird nestles in its nest; and she turned her face towards his own and called him Wulnoth, and love, and hero, and true one; and it was happy peace time for them both. "All the world seems beautiful, dear love," he said to her. "It is like the land of the fairies to my eyes, such is the happiness that comes from love that has found its answer and its mate." "Dearest," she said, "perchance also it is because of a greater happiness which comes to us from Him Whom we serve. We have found the meaning of Wyborga's sign now, sweetheart, though it seemed so strange to us when we were children away there in Lethra." And so they two stood, and their hearts were too full for speech, yet in their very silence they seemed to talk and tell each other of their love, which had grown and grown all through the long years of their waiting. And while they stood thus, from the shadows came the sound of a harp and the voice of a singer, and thus the unseen sang-- Sweet is the peace time, Sweet is the moonlight, Sweet is the love-song Of the night-singer. He to his loved one Sings in the shadow, Calling her to him Waiting there lonely. Sweet is the bird-song Heard in the moonlight. Sweet is the peace time, When the wind whispers, Telling its love-tale To the leaves trembling; Softly and sweetly Breathing its story, While in their love-joy, Are the leaves sighing. Sweet is the wind-song Heard in the moonlight.