Birdalone woke up in the morning, and arose and clad herself, and she
saw not the witch-wife in the chamber, though her bed looked as if it
had been slept in. Birdalone accounted little thereof, whereas the
dame would oft go on one errand or another much betimes in the
morning. Yet was she somewhat glad, for she was nowise wishful for a
wrangle with her. Withal, despite her valiancy, as may well be
thought, she was all a-flutter with hopes and fears, and must needs
refrain her body from overmuch quaking and restlessness if she might.

Now she mingled the tress of the wood-mother's hair with her own
hair, but deemed it nought perilous to leave the ring yet sewn to her
smock: she set some deal of bread and flesh in her scrip, lest her
voyage should be long, and then all simply stepped over the threshold
of the House of her Captivity.

She went straight to the strand aforesaid, seeing nought of the
witch-wife by the way; and when she came there, was about to turn
straightway to her left hand down to the creek, when it came into her
mind that she would first swim over to Green Eyot for this last of
times. For the eyot indeed she loved, and deemed it her own, since
never had her evil dream, the witch, set foot thereon. Moreover, she
said to herself that the cool lake would allay the fever of her
blood, and make her flesh firmer and less timorous for the adventure.
And again, that if the witch should see her from afar, as she could
scarce fail to do, she would deem the maiden was about her wonted
morning swimming, and would be the less like to spy on her.

So now, when she had let her garments slip from off her on to the
sand close to the water's edge, she stood a while, with her feet
scarce covered by the little ripple of the bight, to be a token of