Birdalone's spirit came back to her at that word, and she put her
hands to her face and fell a-weeping. But Atra was kind to her and
made much of her; and she kissed her and wiped her tears, and
Birdalone smiled again amidst her sobs, and she thanked Atra; who
said to her: First of all I must tell thee that I am taking thee to
prison by the witch's bidding. Yea, said Birdalone, and what is
prison? Said Atra: A prison is a grim place where poor folk who
have done that which pleaseth not rich folk are shut up, that they
may be grieved and tormented by not being able to fare abroad, or go
where they would; and by suffering whatsoever their masters may lay
upon them, as darkness, and cold, and hunger, and stripes. Somewhat
so, or worse, our lady would have it for thee; but so would not we.
Therefore for thee shall this prison be a place where thou shalt be
safe till we may bring thee forth when the night hath worn towards
its ending. For she will have forgotten thee by to-morrow; and this
she knoweth; wherefore just now, when thou stoodest out of earshot,
she was bidding me, amongst other matters, to bring thee before her
to-morrow morning, and tell her the tale of thee, that she might call
it to mind then what she had will to this morning.

Yea, said Birdalone, but will she not remember that she hath given
thee a charge concerning me? But little thereof, said Atra, and with
a few words I may easily confuse her memory so that speech thereon
will fail her. Keep up thine heart, sweetling; but let us up this
stair now forthwith, for I were fain to have thee hid away in this
prison, and then will I down to her and tell her that thou art lying
therein in all misery and terror, lest it come into her head to send
for thee ere her memory is grown dim.

Again did Birdalone take heart, and they hastened a long way up the