mistress making a lamentation?"

"Nay," saith the little brother; "I hear naught save the moving of the
reeds in the pushing waters, and thou wilt not listen to my story."

Now went the little brother away in his anger, and found himself a play
among the heather.

But the Black Earl bent above the stream and gazed long into its shallow
turbulence with wonder and fear, for the words the stream said to him in
its whisperings were as though spoken in the voice of his young bride.

He laid his hand in the flowing waters.

"Why art thou troubled, little stream?" quoth he.

But the little stream stayed not its whispering.

"Sainted Mother, oh, pray for me!" it murmured, in piteous prayer, "and
leave sweet mercy upon my soul."

Now, when the Black Earl heard the voice of his lady coming from the
waters in such sorrow, he rose with a cry, and, his heart being full of
fear, he knew at last the greatness of his love.

"Where art thou, then?" he cried, in his woe. "Whither shall I seek thee?"

But the little stream passing his feet murmured its prayer in going; no
other sound did he hear save the far-away laughter of his little brother.