The old man abode their coming, and Ralph leapt off his horse
at once, and kissed and embraced him; but the Sage said: "There is no
need to ask thee of tidings; for thine eyes and thine whole body tell
me that thou hast drunk of the Well at the World's End. And that shall
be better for thee belike than it has been for me; though for me also
the world has not gone ill after my fashion since I drank of that
water."

Then was Ursula come up, and she also lighted down and made much of the
Sage. But he said: "Hail, daughter! It is sweet to see thee so, and
to wot that thou art in the hands of a mighty man: for I know that
Ralph thy man is minded for his Father's House, and the deeds that
abide him there; and I think we may journey a little way together; for
as for me, I would go back to Swevenham to end my days there, whether
they be long or short."

But Ralph said: "As for that, thou mayst go further than Swevenham,
and as far as Upmeads, where there will be as many to love and cherish
thee as at Swevenham."

The old man laughed a little, and reddened withal, but answered nothing.

Then they untrussed their sumpter-beast, and took meat and drink from
his burden, and they ate and drank together, sitting on the green grass
there; and the twain made great joy of the Sage, and told him the whole
tale; and he told them that he had been abiding there since the
spring-tide, lest they might have turned back without accomplishing
their quest, and then may-happen he should have been at hand to comfort
them, or the one of them left, if so it had befallen. "But," quoth he,
"since ye have verily drunk of the Well at the World's End, ye have
come back no later than I looked for you."

That night they slept in the bower there, and on the morrow betimes,
the Sage drove together three or four milch goats that he pastured
there, and went their ways over the plain, and so in due time entered
into the lava-sea. But the first night that they lay there, though it
was moonless and somewhat cloudy, they saw no glare of the distant
earth-fires which they had looked for; and when on the morrow they
questioned the Sage thereof, he said: "The Earth-fires ceased about the
end of last year, as I have heard tell. But sooth it is that the
foreboding of the Giant's Candle was not for naught. For there hath
verily been a change of masters at Utterbol."

"Yea," said Ralph, "for better or worse?"

Said the Sage: "It could scarce have been f