Many horses were waiting to be shod, and the smith attended to them in turn. But presently he gave a nod to his companion, who disappeared for a while, and he himself came out wiping his heated brow, and seated himself beside the child, in the cool shadow of the tree.
From beneath the barrow he drew forth provision for his mid-day meal, and, marking the weary and wistful face of the child, he gave him food and drink in abundance, and as they dined together he talked to him kindly.
“Whence art thou, boy?” he asked; “for I know not thy face, albeit I have lived here, man and boy, all my life.”
“I am from a far city,” answered the child; “a city that lies beyond yonder mountains.”
“Nay, that is far indeed!” said the smith; “and whither away now? For thou art over-young to wander alone through the world.”
“I know not,” answered the child, and then he suddenly crimsoned, he scarce knew why, as he felt the eyes of the smith rest gravely upon him.
“Is it well to fly from the nest where the hand of God hath placed us?” questioned the man with gentle severity: the child hung his head and gave no answer.
Dinner being ended, the smith arose and girded on his leather apron afresh; then he turned into the forge and grasped his heavy hammer. But the child eyed him in surprise.
“It is so hot at noonday,” he said; “surely thou wilt rest awhile ere thou dost labour again?”
The smith smiled as he swung his hammer, and blew up his forge with the great bellows.