arises in the morning. But the witch stood so scowling on her, and
with so sour a look, that Birdalone, glancing at her, found her heart
sink so within her, that she scarce kept countenance; yet she lost it
not.

Then said the witch sharply: Wert thou in the wood to-day? Yea,
lady, said the maiden. Then said the dame fiercely: And what sawest
thou? Quoth Birdalone, looking up with an innocent face somewhat
scared: Lady, I saw a bear, one of the big ones, crossing a glade.
And thou without bow and arrow or wood-knife, I warrant me, said the
witch. Thou shalt be whipped, to keep thee in mind that thy life is
mine and not thine. Nay, nay, I pray thee be not wroth! said the
maid; he was a long way down the glade, and would not have followed
me if he had seen me: there was no peril therein. Said the witch-
wife: Didst thou see aught else? Yea, said Birdalone, and was
weeping somewhat now; which forsooth was not hard for her to do,
over-wrought as she was betwixt hope and fear: yea, I saw my white
doe and her fawn, and they passed close by me; and two herons flew
over my head toward the water; and . . . But the witch turned
sharply and said: Thrall! hast thou seen a woman to-day in the wood?
A woman? said Birdalone, and what woman, my lady, said Birdalone.
Hath any woman come to the house, and passed forth into the wood?

The dame looked on her carefully, and remembered how she had faltered
and changed countenance that other day, when she had charged her with
being minded to flee; and now she saw her with wondering face, and in
no wise confused or afraid of guilt, as it seemed; so she believed
her tale, and being the more at ease thereby, her wrath ran off her,
and she spake altogether pleasantly to Birdalone, and said: Now I
have had my gird at thee, my servant, I must tell thee that in sooth