Above Earth's twin vestments of sound and scent, the blue
enwrapping scarf of air, that wistful wide champaign, was spanned only by
the wings of Freedom.

After that long drink of the day, the riders mounted almost in silence to
the very top of the moor. There again they sat quite still on their
horses, examining the prospect. Far away to South and East lay the sea,
plainly visible. Two small groups of wild ponies were slowly grazing
towards each other on the hillside below.

Courtier said in a low voice:

"'Thus will I sit and sing, with love in my arms; watching our two herds
mingle together, and below us the far, divine, cerulean sea.'"

And, after another silence, looking steadily in Barbara's face, he added:

"Lady Barbara, I am afraid this is the last time we shall be alone
together. While I have the chance, therefore, I must do homage.... You
will always be the fixed star for my worship. But your rays are too
bright; I shall worship from afar. From your seventh Heaven, therefore,
look down on me with kindly eyes, and do not quite forget me:"

Under that speech, so strangely compounded of irony and fervour, Barbara
sat very still, with glowing cheeks.

"Yes," said Courtier, "only an immortal must embrace a goddess. Outside
the purlieus of Authority I shall sit cross-legged, and prostrate myself
three times a day."

But Barbara answered nothing.

"In the early morning," went on Courtier, "leaving the dark and dismal
homes of Freedom I shall look towards the Temples of the Great; there
with the eye of faith I shall see you."

He stopped, for Barbara's lips were moving.

"Don't hurt me, please."

Courtier leaned over, took her hand, and put it to his lips. "We will
now ride on...."

That night at dinner Lord Dennis, seated opposite his great-niece, was
struck by her appearance.

"A very beautiful child," he thought, "a most lovely young creature!"

She was placed between Courtier and Harbinger. And the old man's still
keen eyes carefully watched those two. Though attentive to their
neighbours on the other side, they were both of them keeping the corner
of an eye on Barbara and on each other. The thing was transparent to
Lord Dennis, and a smile settled in that nest of gravity between his
white peaked beard and moustaches. But he waited, the instinct of a
fisherman bidding him to neglect no piece of water, till he saw the child
silent and in repose, and watched carefully to see what would