"No, Ancient."
"Not even a—barrynet?"
"No, Ancient."
"Ah, well!—you be a man, Peter, an' 'tis summ'at to ha' found a man—that it be."
And now he feebly beckoned us all nearer.
"Children," said he, "I be a old an' ancient man I be goin' on—across the river to wait for you—my blessin' on ye. It be a dark, dark road, but I've got t' owd stapil, an' there—be a light beyond—the river."
So, the Ancient sighed, and crossed the dark River into the Land of
Light Eternal.
CHAPTER XLII
HOW SIR MAURICE KEPT HIS WORD
Night, with a rising moon, and over all things a great quietude, a deep, deep silence. Air, close and heavy, without a breath to wake the slumbering trees; an oppressive stillness, in which small sounds magnified themselves, and seemed disproportionately loud.