BIRDALONE FINDETH HER WITCH-MISTRESS DEAD.
It was some while after noon when she wakened, and the sun was shining
bright and hot. Somewhat she felt the burden of fear upon her, even
before she was fully come to herself, and knew not what it was that she
feared; but when she called to mind that it was even the meeting with
her old mistress, her flesh quaked indeed with the memory of bygone
anguish, but valiantly she arose and faced the dwelling of the witch
despite her naked helplessness. As she went she looked up unto it, and
saw no smoke coming from the chimney, but marvelled little thereat
since it was not yet cooking-time and the weather hot. She drew nigher,
and saw someone sitting on the bench without the door whereas the witch
was wonted; and her heart beat quick, for she saw presently that it was
none other than her mistress. Moreover, near to her stood three of the
milch-kine lowing uneasily and as in reproach, even as such beasts use
when their udders be full and they desire to be milked.
Birdalone stayed a minute, and her legs nigh failed her for fear, and
then because of the very fear she hastened on till she came within ten
paces of the said witch; and sore she missed her bow and arrows, and
the cutting blade of her feigned squirehood, lest the carline should
arise and come raging and shrieking at her.
Then spake Birdalone in no feeble voice, and said: Dame, I am come back
unto thee, as thou seest, in even such plight as I fled from thee; and
I have a mind to dwell in this land: what sayest thou? The witch
neither moved nor spake at her word; and the kine, who had held silence
when she first came up, and had turned from her, fell to their peevish
lowing again.
Birdalone drew a step nigher, and said: Dost thou hear me, dame, or art
thou exceeding wroth with me, and art pondering what vengeance thou
wilt take on me? Still no answer came from the carline, and the kine
kept on lowing now and again. Once more Birdalone drew nigher, and
spake loudly and said: Tell me at least, is it peace between us or
unpeace?
But now when she looked she saw that the eyes of the witch were open
and staring, and her lips white, and her hands hard writhen; and she
cried out and said: Is she dead? or will she waken presently and beat
me? surely she is dead. And she put forth her hand and touched her
face, and it was stone-cold; and she found that she was dead beyond any
question.
Then was a great weight lifted off her heart, and she turned about and
looked on the meadows and up to the trees of the wood and down to the
rippling stream before her, and fair and sweet and joyous were they
gotten unto her; and she looked at the kine who were drawing up towards
her, and she laughed merrily, and went to the out-house hard by and
took forth a milking-pail and a stool and fell to milking them one
after the other, and the beasts went off down the meadow lowing in a
changed voice, for joy to wit, this time. But Birdalone knelt down and
drank a long draught of the sweet warm milk, and then arose and went
swiftly into the house, and saw nought changed or worsened so far as
she could see. There was her own bed in the corner, and the mistress’s,
greater and much fairer, over against it; and the hutch by the door
wherein the victual was kept: she opened it now, and found three loaves
there on the shelf, and a meal-tub down below, and she took a loaf and
broke it and fell to eating it as she walked about the chamber. There
was her bow standing in a nook beside the hutch, and the quiver of
arrows hanging on the wall above it. There was the settle lying athwart
from the hearth; and she smiled, and fitted her wrists to the back of
the carven bear which made its elbow, whereto the witch was wont to tie
them when she chastised her.
Then she went to the coffers that stood against the wall behind it, and
threw up the lid of one of them, and found therein a smock or two of
her own, yellowed by the lapse of time, and her old grey coat, ragged
as it was when last she wore it, and now somewhat moth-eaten withal;
and she drew forth both smocks and coat and laid them on the settle.
Then she opened another coffer, and therein were gay and gaudy gowns
and gear of the witch’s wear; but lying amongst them, as if the witch
had worn them also, her green gown and shoon which her own hands had
broidered. But she said: Nay, ye have been in ill company, I will wear
you not, though ye be goodly, at least not till ye have been fumigated
and hallowed for me.
Therewith she turned back to the settle and did on her her old smock
and her ragged grey coat, and said: To-day at least will these be good
enough for to-day’s work. And she knit her brow withal, and walked with
a firm step out-a-doors and stood a while gazing on the dead corpse of
her enemy; and she thought how that here was that which once was so
great a thing unto her for the shaping of her life-days, and which so
oft came to her waking thoughts after she had escaped from her hands,
(though, as aforesaid, she seldom dreamed of her a-night-time), and
moreover an hour ago she yet feared it so sore that she scarce might
stand for the fear of it; and now it was nought but a carven log unto
her.
But she told herself that the work was to be done; so she dragged the
body away thence, and across the brook, and a little way into the
meadow, and then she went back and fetched mattock and spade from the
outhouse, where she knew they lay, and so fell to digging a grave for
the corpse of her dead terror. But howso hard she might toil, she was
not through with the work ere night began to fall on her, and she had
no mind to go on with her digging by night. Wherefore she went back
into the house, and lighted candles, whereof was no lack, and made her
supper of the bread and the milk; and then sat pondering on her life
that had been till the passion arose in her bosom, and the tears burst
out, and long she wept for desire of others and pity for herself. Then
she went to the bed she had been erst wont to, and laid her down and
fell asleep.
And her mistress walked not, nor meddled with her peace; nor did
Birdalone so much as dream of her, but of her mother and Master Jacobus
in the fair city of the Five Crafts; and in her sleep she wept for
thinking of them.