That since life began
They have hidden for their master--
For the great god Pan.

You who follow in the pathway
Of the waters fleet,
You shall tread the gold of springtime
'Neath your careless feet,
Gold the hasting rivers gathered
Without thought of man,--
Flung aside as hushed they listened
To the pipes of Pan!




V

THE TAPESTRY CHAMBER


Lady Philippa sat with her little daughter Eleanor in the tapestry
chamber. This was the only corner of the gray old Norman castle which
seemed really their own. All the rest of it was under the rule of Sir
Stephen Giffard, the eldest son of the house, and still more under the
rule of his mother, Lady Ebba, who seemed more like a man than a woman and
managed everything, in-doors and out, including her sons. Eleanor,
watching her grandmother with shy observant eyes, was not quite sure
whether her father came under that rule or not. He never disputed anything
his mother said or opposed her will, but somehow, when he saw that his