the parable, its mate hath hid itself in the wood, and
the wild bird will return to you, if you bid it come."

Then Sir Paul, knowing that the Knight had done worthily and like a
true knight, said, "Sir Richard, I am unjust; but you will pardon me,
for my heart is very sore." And so Paul passed on to his chamber; and
that night was a very bitter one, for he went down into the sad valley
into which men must needs descend, and he saw no light there. And once
in the night he rose dry-eyed and fevered from his bed, and twitching
the curtain aside, saw the forest lie sleeping in the cold light of
the moon; and his thought went out to the Isle of Thorns, and he saw
the four hearts that were made desolate; and he questioned in his
heart why God had made the hard and grievous thing that men call love.

Then he went back and fell into a sort of weary sleep; and waking
therefrom, he felt a strange and terrible blackness seize upon his
spirit, so that he could hear his own heart beat furious and thick in
the darkness; and he prayed that God would release him from the prison
of the world. But while he lay, he heard the feet of a horse clatter
on the pavement, it being now near the dawn; and presently there came
a page fumbling to the door, who bore a letter from the Lady Beckwith,
and it ran:--

_"I would not write to you thus, dear Paul, unless my need
were urgent; but the dear Helen is near her end, and has
prayed me many times that, if it were possible, you should
come and sing to her--for she fears to go into the dark, and
says that your voice can give her strength and hope. Now if
it be possible, come; but if you say nay to my messenger, I
shall well understand it. But the dear one hath done you no
hurt, and for the love of the God who made us, come and
comfort us--from her who loves you as a son, these."_

Then Paul when he had read, pondered for awhile; and then he said to
the page, "Say that I will come." So he arrayed himself with haste,
and went swiftly through the silent wood, looking neither to left or
to right, but only to the path at his feet. And presently he came to
the Isle of Thorns; it lay in a sort of low silver mist, the house
pushing through it, as a rock out of the sea. And then a sudden chill
came over Paul, and the very marrow of his bones shuddered; for he
knew in his heart that this was nothing but the presaging of death;
and he thought that the dreadful a