“He thinks that I could not nor would. But I can and do!”
She stood. “It is Somerville’s cousin. Once I feasted him in the house by the river.”
They looked deep into the deep wood, they looked to the cot from which came a tranquil blue feather of smoke. Then said Englefield, “It is naught but travel again! Beyond this wood runs the wold for a long way, then we drop to the sea and to fishing villages. Come, then! The day is good, the night is starry.”
“Two Egyptians over the wold.”
“We have been together, I think, upon many wolds, in woods and havens, in Egypt and elsewhere. Come then, Morgen!”
They left Master Cuddington’s axe and cords and cot and furnishing. They took a loaf that she had baked and a bundle of clothing and what coins were left from the smiths’ street, and at sunset fared forth.
CHAPTER XXVIII
It stretched afar, the great wold. They were out upon it under the moon. All wildness, all loneliness! If there were a track it was a faint one. The ground rolled; all opened to the sky, a little lower and a little higher; around and above was immensity sewn with points of significance. They found bushes to shelter them from the murmuring and seeking wind and slept deeply. The night turned toward day. Are you awake?—Aye!