s and valleys of the south, whose
peoples were only birds and foxes and rabbits, and whose only cities
were built of lights and shadows. Somewhere beyond them was Combe Ivy,
and little Thea getting married to the Rough Master of Coates, in the
midst of feasting and singing and dancing. He thought of her dancing
over the Downs for joy of being free, he thought of her singing to
herself as she gathered flowers in his copse, and he thought of her
feasting on wild berries he had helped her to find--that also was a
feasting and singing and dancing. All day long his thoughts ran, "She
will not come any more in the mornings to bathe in the river over the
hill. She will not come with her little basket to gather flowers and
berries. She will not stop and ask for a cup of milk, or say, Let me
see the young lambs, or say, Is your cherry-tree in flower yet,
shepherd? She will not ask me with her eyes to come with her--oh, she
will not ask me by turning her eyes away, with her little head bent.
You! you Rough Master of Coates, what are you like, what are you like?"

In the evening when he gathered his sheep, one was missing. He had to
take the flock back without it. Old Gerard was furious with him; it
seemed as though on this last night that separated him from the long
fulfillment of his hopes he must be more furious than he had ever been
before. He was furious at being thwarted of the fun in the valley,
furious at the loss of the lamb, most furious at young Gerard's
indifference to his fury. He told the boy he must search on the hills,
and Young Gerard only sat down by the side of the shed and looked to
the south and made no answer. So he went himself, leaving the boy to
prepare the mess for supper; for he feared that if he went to Combe Ivy
that night with a bad tale to tell, his master for a whim might say
that a young sheep was a fair deal for an old shepherd, and take his
gold, and keep him a bondman still. For the Lord of Combe Ivy lived by
his whimsies. But Old Gerard could not find the lost sheep, and when he
came back the boy was where he had left him, looking over the darkening
hills.

"Is the mess ready?" said Old Gerard.

"No," said Young Gerard.

"Why not?"

"Because I forgot."

Old Gerard slashed at him with a rope he had taken in case of need.
"That will make you remember."

"No," said Young Gerard.

"Why not?"

Young Gerard said, "You beat me too often, I cannot remember all the
reasons."

"Then," said