“It cannot be. I have work to do,” she said sorrowful.
“For that matter so indeed have I,” quoth Peregrine. “What manner of work is thine?”
“I mind my father’s goats,” she responded. “What work is yours?”
“I seek some one,” said Peregrine grimly.
“Some one you have lost?”
“Some one I have never found,” was the answer.
“Oh,” responded the child perplexed. Then shyly, “I must be about my work. I thank you, sir. God speed you with your seeking.” Waiting for no response she nodded to him, turned off into the pinewood.
Peregrine went slowly on his way.
The interlude had come happily. There is a healthful sanity in a child’s company, even if it endure but a brief space. Peregrine felt his mind somewhat cleansed of the murkiness which had enshrouded it. He began to picture the woman he sought as present with him. This eased his mind for a while, even though it tantalized. It lifted him to a more exalted mood. He identified her with the Spirit of Life around him, saw her passing over the snow swift-footed, fancied her coming from among the pines towards him, heard her voice in the light breeze which stirred them. He held her thus in his thought throughout the day. He saw her image in the glowing sunset, fancied the purpling light across the hills the spreading of her veil. So far so good. With the night, fatigue descended on him. There comes a point in this state when fancy cannot readily be embraced, nor even held though formerly present. Reality is required upon which to rest the mind. This Peregrine had not. Fancy slipping from him left him desolate. He was also very hungry. Fate had thrown no dwelling in his path whereat he could beg bread. Therefore he had not broken his fast since early morning. The needs of nature joining with desolation of mind to bear him down, he found himself heavily weighted.
Darkness lay around him. The sky, which at close of sunset had clouded, brought very meagre light to guide him. Only the faint glimmer of the white road before him gave him his route. He stumbled on, sinking at times knee deep in the snow, where it lay drifted beneath the wall.