his wife as he first saw her. She was standing bare-armed among the
grape-vines by a wall of rock, the dew of rich life on her lip and
forehead, her grey eyes swimming with a soft light; and looking at her he
had loved her at once, as he had loved, on the instant, the little child
that came to him later; as he had loved the girl into which the child
grew, till she left him and came back no more. Why had he never gone in
search of her?

He got to his feet involuntarily and stepped towards the door, looking
down into the valley. As his eyes rested on the little city his face grew
dark, but his eyes were troubled and presently grew bewildered, for out
of a green covert near there stepped a pretty boy, who came to him with
frank, unabashed face and a half-shy smile.

Felion did not speak at first, but stood looking, and presently the child
said: "I have come to fetch you."

"To fetch me where, little man?" asked Felion, a light coming into his
face, his heart beating faster.

"To my mother. She is sick."

"Where is your mother?"

"She's in the village down there," answered the boy, pointing.

In spite of himself, Felion smiled in a sour sort of way, for the boy had
called the place a village, and he relished the unconscious irony.

"What is the matter with her?" asked Felion, beckoning the lad inside.