Finding no further speech come handy, the boy turned to the girl.
“Come,” he said. “Father Felix bade us be betimes.”
Together they wended their way up the hillside. Peregrine looked after them, and towards the church.
The sun had fallen behind the forest, leaving it purple-blue against a rosy sky toning upwards to lilac and grey. The air was alive and fragrant with the breath of spring. A thrush sang in an elm tree set close against the church.
Father Felix was sitting on a bench in front of a cottage door. This was the priest’s house, and was hard by the church. Since you have met Father Felix before, though in other guise, I refrain from present description of him. His eyes, looking towards the reflection from the sunset, reflected something of its calm. You see him musing on matters well loved by him.
Anon bringing his eyes from the sky, a thought nearer earth, he became aware of a tall man standing near him. Looking at him, he saw in him a stranger.
“I give you good-evening, sir,” he said.
“Good-evening,” responded Peregrine.
“You are, I fancy, a stranger in these parts,” said Father Felix.