"Yes, yes. Release me. Let me fly. Do you not hear the wind?"
"I am listening to you," he answered.
"Forget me. Listen! That was like thunder. Are you listening?"
"I am coming out with you," he said.
Reaching the open, Geoffrey discovered Madeleine, her arms outstretched, her hair rising in ripples above her head as she bathed in the wind, battling and panting, her lovely face all heather-pink.
"I can smell the pines," she gasped, "and the salt sea, and the mountains. I can hear the roaring of water and see the soaring of eagles. Oh, oh!" she panted. "It is glorious to live!"
She cried as she drew him away impetuously:
"The black priest has gone. Let us hope that he has been blown away into a swamp, where the fairies shall bewitch him into a frog to croak at the world for ever. Come now away. Tell me whether you had dreams in the night. But stay!"
She drew away from him suddenly.
"Madeleine!" he exclaimed, wondering at her changed face.