out in a stony silence, hardly knowing what he
did.

Then it seemed to Paul as though he went down into deep waters indeed,
which passed cold and silent, in horror and bitterness, over his soul.
He did not contend or cry out; but he knew that the light had fallen out
of his life, and had left him dark and dead.

So he went slowly back to the castle through the wood, hating his life
and all that he was; once or twice he felt a kind of passion rise within
him, and he said to himself, "She is pledged to me, and she shall be
mine." And then there smote upon him the thought that in thinking thus
he was rather brute than man. And he fell at last into an agony of
prayer that God would lead him to the light, and show him what he should
do. When he reached the castle he put a strong constraint upon himself;
he went down to the hall; he even sang; but it was like a dream; he
seemed to be out of the body, and as it were to see himself standing,
and to hear the words falling from his own lips. The Duke courteously
praised him, and said that he was well content to hear his minstrel
again.

As he left the hall, he passed through a little anteroom, that was hung
with arras, on the way to his chamber; and there he saw sitting on a
bench, close to the door that led to the turret stair, the young Knight,
Sir Richard; and there rose in his heart a passion of anger, so strong
that he felt as though a hand were laid upon his heart, crushing it. And
he stood still, and looked upon the Knight, who raised so pale and
haggard a face upon him, that Paul, in spite of his own misery, saw
before him a soul as much or more vexed than his own; and then the anger
died out of his heart, and left in him only the sense of the bitter
fellowship of suffering; the Knight rose to his feet, and they stood for
a moment looking at each other; and then the Knight said, pale to the
lips, "Sir Paul, we are glad to welcome you back--I have heard of the
Duke's gift, and rejoice that your inheritance should thus return to
you." And Paul bowed and said, "Ay, it is a great gift; but it seems
that in finding it I have lost a greater." And then, seeing the Knight
grow paler still, if that were possible, he said, "Sir Richard, let me
tell you a parable; there was a little bird of the wood that came to my
window, and made me glad--so that I thought of no other thing but my
wild bird, that trusted me: and while I was absent, one hath whispered
it away, and it will not r