they jumped.

Out and down they went like two shooting stars and plunked through the
snowcrust. They were up in a second. Their wrists and elbows were a
little bruised and cut, but they were not really hurt at all. But
strange and strange, the bird had fluttered near Ivra's hand for that
second, and then flew straight back up and into the open window. It had
been caged so long it did not really want its freedom after all. Eric
cried out with regret.

But Ivra seized his hand, and they ran home together through the cold,
starlit forest. Before they leapt the hedge into their own garden Eric
saw the firelight blossoming in the windows. But he stood still outside
the door, after Ivra had gone in, for a time, breathing the cold air and
the clear silence right down into his toes.




CHAPTER XII

IVRA'S BIRTHDAY


"To-morrow is the shortest day in the year," Ivra told Eric one night
after they were in bed. He did not answer, for he was very sleepy. But
after a minute she spoke again. "It's my birthday too!"

Then he opened his eyes and sat up, for her voice sounded very queer and
far away. He saw that she too was sitting up, her hands folded under her