; she would
be glad to see him again; in the mean time there was pleasure in
meditation. How bright his hair was and how kind his smile! and his eyes
were like a mountain lake.

Perpetua was so absorbed by her thoughts and her task that she did not
hear the soft sound of quiet footsteps on the grass as a man crested the
hill, an old man, tall and gray and sturdy, dressed in a jerkin and
leggings of faded scarlet leather, who stood upon the open space,
silently watching her.

Once again the clear voice of Perpetua floated into the air:

"Arising, falling,
The sword of sharpness,
Weapon of Godhead,
Baffles the Devil."

The song ended; the sword lay motionless upon the motionless stone; the
girl's thoughts were in the green heart of the wood.

"I wonder what sweet name he carries. I wonder who was his mother. She
must have been a happy woman. I wonder who will be his happy wife."

A tear fell upon the bright blade and startled Perpetua.

"I am too big a girl," she said to herself, "to be such a baby--and
tears will rust on a sword."

As she wiped the sword clean with her sleeve, the new-comer advanced and
touched her gently on the shoulder. The girl swung round with a cry of
joy. She leaned the sword against a tree, and, running to the man,
clasped him in her arms, the strong young girl clinging to the strong
elder like some beautiful creeper encircling an ancient, stalwart tree.

"Oh, father!" she cried. "I am so glad you have come! I have been so
lonely."

Theron's brown hand rested gently on the girl's head, and his brown face
smiled love. There was trouble in his eyes, there was trouble in the
lines of his forehead, but the sight of his daughter softened them, and
she read nothing but greeting.

"Lonely, little eagle?" he asked, with surprise in his voice. The girl
noted the surprise and laughed a little as she answered.

"I never knew what it was to be lonely before. You and I and the sword,
and our songs, and the holy men, and the trees and the flowers and the
furred and feathered woodlanders"--she ran through the sum of her
companionships--"they seemed to make a perfect world of peace."

Theron heard the change in the child's voice, Theron saw the change in
the child's eyes.

"Who has disturbed this world of peace?" he asked, and a frown grew on
his face.

"Strangers," the girl answered, turning a little away, while the old man
caught at the word and echoed it in fear and ang