“Is it something coming from the wave?”
“No, it’s in the sky.”
“Listen!”
There was a whirr above like wheels in the air, and a creaking sound with it. They stood up, but could not see what it was, though it grew louder and came nearer with a rushing noise. Suddenly something white appeared above the trees which had concealed its approach, and a swan passed over descending. It was the noise of its wings and their creaking which sounded like wheels. The great bird descended aslant quite a quarter of a mile into the water to the south in front of them, and there floated among the glittering ripples.
“I thought it was the roc,” said Mark, sitting down again.
“Or a genie,” said Bevis. “What a creaking and whirring it made!” Rooks’ wings often creak as they go over like stiff leather, but the noise of a swan’s flight is audible a mile or more.
“Go on with the story,” said Mark.
“It’s finished.”
“But what did he do when they pulled him back? Didn’t he burst the door open?”
“He couldn’t. When he was pulled back it was night on that side of the wall, and the sudden change made him so bewildered that they led him away as if he was walking in his sleep down to the temple.”