d leaves, and the bits of old bark all over
blue-gray-green rot, and the young sprigs almost budding, and hissing
with sap. And for one moment they saw all the skeleton and soul of the
castle without its body, before it fell in.

The child sighed a little and yawned a little and said:

"How nice it is to live in a palace. Who lives here with you?"

"My friends," said Young Gerard, poking at the log with a bit of stick.

"What are your friends like?" she asked him, rubbing her knuckles in
her eyes.

He was silent for a little, stirring up sparks and smoke. Then he
answered, "They are gay in their hearts, and they're dressed in bright
clothes, and they come with singing and dancing."

"Who else lives in your palace with you?" she asked drowsily.

"You do," said Young Gerard.

The child's head dropped against his shoulder and she said, "My name's
Dorothea, but my father calls me Thea, and he is the Lord of Combe
Ivy." And she fell fast asleep.

For a little while Young Gerard held and watched her in the firelight,
and then he rose and wrapped her in the old embroidered mantle on the
settle, and went out. And sure-foot as a goat he carried her over the
dark hills by the tracks he knew, for roads there were none, and his
arms ached with his burden, but he would not wake her till they stood
at her father's gates. Then he shook her gently and set her down, and
she clung to him a little dazed, trying to remember.

"This is Combe Ivy," he whispered. "You must go in alone. Will you come
again?"

"One day," said Thea.

"One day there'll be flowers on my cherry-tree," said Young Gerard.
"Don't forget."

"No, I won't," she said.

He returned through the night up hill and down dale, but did not go
back to the shed until he had recovered his lamb. By then it was almost
dawn, and he found his master awake and cursing. He had feared the boy
had made off, and he had had curt treatment at Combe Ivy, which was in
a stir about the loss of the little daughter. Young Gerard showed the
lamb as his excuse, nevertheless the old shepherd leathered the young
one soundly, as he did six days in seven.

After this when Young Gerard sat dreaming on the hills, he dreamed not
only of his happy land and laughing friends, but of the next coming of
little Thea. But Combe Ivy was far away, and the months passed and the
years, and she did not come again. Meanwhile Young Gerard and his tree
grew apace, and the limbs of the boy became longer