died; and, lifting her eyes, Hetty saw over its grave, poised in a
clear space of sky, the sickle moon.

She tried to disengage her hand, to point to it: but as his eyes
sought hers with a question, she let it lie and nodded upwards
instead. He saw and understood, and with their faces raised to it
they held on their flight in silence: for lovers may wish with the
new moon, but the first to speak will have wished in vain.

A tapping, as of someone hammering upon metal, sounded from a clump
of willows ahead and upon their right. A woman's voice joined in
scolding. This broke the spell; and with a laugh they disengaged
hands, separated, and let their speed bear them on side by side till
it slackened and they ran to a halt beside the trees.

A barge lay here, hopelessly frozen on its way up the canal. On its
deck a woman, with arms akimbo, stood over a man seated and tinkering
at a kettle. She nodded as they approached.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, sir--you and the lady."

Hetty looked at her lover.

"It's all right," he explained: "only a surprise of mine, which seems
to have missed fire. I had planned a small picnic here and this good
woman was to have had a dish of tea ready for you--"

"How was I to know that man of mine had been fool enough to fill the
kettle before tramping off to the 'Ring of Bells'?" the good woman
broke in. "Lord knows 'tisn' his way to be thoughtful, and when he