In the heart of the Forest of Seale lay the little village of
Birnewood Fratrum, like a lark's nest in a meadow of tall grass. It
was approached by green wood-ways, very miry in winter. The folk that
lived there were mostly woodmen. There was a little church, the stones
of which seemed to have borrowed the hue of the forest, and close
beside it a small timbered house, the Parsonage, with a garden of
herbs. Those who saw Birnewood in the summer, thought of it as a place
where a weary man might rest for ever, in an ancient peace, with the
fresh mossy smell of the wood blowing through it, and the dark cool
branching covert to muse in on every side. But it was a different
place in winter, with ragged clouds rolling overhead and the bare
boughs sighing in the desolate gales; though again in a frosty winter
evening it would be fair enough, with the red sun sinking over miles
of trees.
From the village green a little track led into the forest, and, a
furlong or two inside, ended in an open space thickly overgrown with
elders, where stood the gaunt skeleton of a ruined tower staring with
bare windows at the wayfarer. The story of the tower was sad enough.
The last owner, Sir Ralph Birne, was on the wrong side in a rebellion,
and died on the scaffold, his lands forfeited to the crown. The tower
was left desolate, and piece by piece the villagers carried away all
that was useful to them, leaving the shell of a house, though at the
time of which I speak the roof still held, and the floors, though
rotting fast, still bore the weight of a foot.
In the Parsonage lived an old priest, Father John, as he was called,
and with him a boy who was held to be his nephew, Ralph by name, now
eighteen years of age. The boy was very dear to Father John, who was a
wise and loving man. To many it might have seemed a dull life enough,
but Ralph had known no other, having come to the Parsonage as a child.
Of late indeed Ralph had begun to feel a strange desire grow and stir
within him, to see what the world was like outside the forest; such a
desire would come on him at early morning, in the fresh spring days,
and he would watch some lonely traveller riding slowly to the south
with an envious look; though as like as not the wayfarer would be
envying the bright boy, with his background of quiet woods. But such
fancies only came and went, and he said nothing to the old priest
about them, who nevertheless had marked the change for himself with
the instinct of love, and would sometimes, as he sate with his
breviary, follow the boy about with his eyes, in which the wish to
keep him strove with the knowledge that the bird must some day leave
the nest.
One summer morning, the old priest shut his book, with the air of a
man who has made up his mind in sadness, and asked Ralph to walk with
him. They went to the tower, and there, sitting in the ruins, Father
John told Ralph the story of the house, which he had often heard
before. But now there was so tender and urgent a tone in the priest's
voice that Ralph heard him wonderingly; and at last the priest very
solemnly, after a silence, said that there was something in his mind
that must be told; and he went on to say that Ralph was indeed the
heir of the tower; he was the grandson of Sir Ralph, who died upon the
scaffold; his father had died abroad, dispossessed of his inheritance;
and the priest said that in a few days he himself would set out on a
journey, too long deferred, to see a friend of his, a Canon of a
neighbouring church, to learn if it were possible that some part of
the lands might be restored to Ralph by the king's grace. For the
young king that had newly come to the throne was said to be very
merciful and just, and punished not the sins of the fathers upon the
children; but Father John said that he hardly dared to hope it; and
then he bound Ralph to silence; and then after a pause he added,
taking one of the boy's hands in his own, "And it is time, dear son,
that you should leave this quiet place and make a name for yourself;
my days draw to an end; perhaps I have been wrong to keep you here to
myself, but I have striven to make you pure and simple, and if I was
in fault, why, it has been the fault of love." And the boy threw his
arms round the priest's neck and kissed him, seeing that tears
trembled in his eyes, and said that he was more than content, and that
he should never leave his uncle and the peaceful forest that he loved.
But the priest saw an unquiet look in his eye, as of a sleeper
awakened, and knew the truth.
A few days after, the priest rode away at sunrise; and Ralph was left
alone. In his head ran an old tale, which he had heard from the
woodmen, of a great treasure of price, which was hidden somewhere in
the tower. Then it came into his mind that there dwelt not far away in
the wood an ancient wise man who gave counsel to all who asked for it,
and knew the virtues of plants, and the courses of buried springs, and
many hidden things beside. Ralph had never been to the house of the
wise man, but he knew the direction where it lay; so with the secret
in his heart, he made at once for the place. The day was very hot and
still, and no birds sang in the wood. Ralph walked swiftly along the
soft green road, and came at last upon a little grey house of plaster,
with beams of timber, that stood in a clearing near a spring, with a
garden of its own; a fragrant smell came from a sprawling bush of box,
and the bees hummed busily over the flowers. There was no smoke from
the chimney, and the single window that gave on the road, in a gable,
looked at him like a dark eye. He went up the path, and stood before
the door waiting, when a high thin voice, like an evening wind, called
from within, "Come in and fear not, thou that tarriest on the
threshold." Ralph, with a strange stirring of the blood at the silver
sound of the voice, unlatched the door and entered. He found himself
in a low dark room, with a door opposite him; in the roof hung bundles
of herbs; there was a large oak table strewn with many things of daily
use, and sitting in a chair, with his back to the light, sate a very
old thin man, with a frosty beard, clad in a loose grey gown. Over the
fireplace hung a large rusty sword; the room was very clean and cool,
and the sunlight danced on the ceiling, with the flicker of moving
leaves.
"Your name and errand?" said the old man, fixing his grey eyes, like
flint stones, upon the boy, not unkindly. "Ralph," said the boy.
"Ralph," said the old man, "and why not add Birne to Ralph? that makes
a fairer name."
Ralph was so much bewildered at this strange greeting, that he stood
confused--at which the old man pointed to a settle, and said, "And
now, boy, sit down and speak with me; you are Ralph from Birnewood
Parsonage, I know--Father John is doubtless away--he has no love for
me, though I know him to be a true man."
Then little by little he unravelled the boy's desire, and the story
of the treasure. Then he said, kindly enough, "Yes, it is ever
thus--well, lad, I will tell you; and heed my words well. The treasure
is there; and you shall indeed find it; but prepare for strange sounds
and sights." And as he said this, he took the young hand in his own
for a moment and a strange tide of sensation seemed to pass along the
boy's veins. "Look in my face," the old man went on, "that I may see
that you have faith--for without faith such quests are vain." Ralph
raised his eyes to those of the old man, and then a sensation such as
he had never felt before came over him; it was like looking from a
window into a wide place, full of darkness and wonder.
Then the old man said solemnly, "Child, the time is come--I have
waited long for you, and the door is open."
Then he said, with raised hand, "The journey is not long, but it must
be done in a waking hour; sleep not on the journey; that first. And of
three things beware--the Snake, and the Leper, and the Grey Frost; for
these three things have brought death to wiser men than yourself.
There," he added, "that is your note of the way; now make the journey,
if you have the courage."
"But, sir," said Ralph in perplexity, "you say to me, make the
journey; and you tell me not whither to go. And you tell me to beware
of three things. How shall I know them to avoid them?"
"You will know them when you have seen them," said the old man sadly,
"and that is the most that men can know; and as for the journey, you
can start upon it wherever you are, if your heart is pure and strong."
Then Ralph said, trembling, "Father, my heart is pure, I think; but I
know not whether I am strong."
Then the old man reached out his hand, and took up a staff that leant
by the chair; and from a pocket in his gown he took a small metal
thing shaped like a five-pointed star; and he said, "Ralph, here is a
staff and a holy thing; and now set forth." So Ralph rose, and took
the staff and the star, and made a reverence, and murmured thanks; and
then he went to the door by which he had entered; but the old man
said, "Nay, it is the other door," and then he bent down his head upon
his arms like one who wept.
Ralph went to the other door and opened it; he had thought it led into
the wood; but when he opened it, it was dark and cold without; and
suddenly with a shock of strange terror he saw that outside was a
place like a hill-top, with short strong grass, and clouds sweeping
over it. He would have drawn back, but he was ashamed; so he stepped
out and closed the door behind him; and then the house was gone in a
moment like a dream, and he was alone on the hill, with the wind
whistling in his ears.
He waited for a moment in the clutch of a great fear; but he felt he
was alive and well, and little by little his fear disappeared and left
him eager. He went a few steps forward, and saw that the hill sloped
downward, and downward he went, by steep slopes of turf and scattered
grey stones. Presently the mist seemed to blow thinner, and through a
gap he saw a land spread out below him; and soon he came out of the
cloud, and saw a lonely forest country, all unlike his own, for the
trees seemed a sort of pine, with red stems, very tall and sombre. He
looked round, and presently he saw that a little track below him
seemed to lead downward into the pines, so he gained the track; and
soon he came down to the wood.
There was no sign as yet of any habitation; he heard the crying of
birds, and at one place he saw a number of crows that stood round
something white that lay upon the ground, and pecked at it; and he
turned not aside, thinking, he knew not why, that there was some evil
thing there. But he did not feel alone, and he had a thought which
dwelt with him that there were others bound upon the same quest as
himself, though he saw nothing of them. Once indeed he thought he saw
a man walking swiftly, his face turned away, among the pines; but the
trees blotted him from his sight. Then he passed by a great open marsh
with reeds and still pools of water, where he wished to rest; but he
pushed on the faster, and suddenly, turning a corner, saw that the
track led him straight to a large stone house, that stood solitary in
the wood. He knew in a moment that this was the end of his journey,
and marvelled within himself at the ease of the quest; he went
straight up to the house, which seemed all dark and silent, and smote
loudly and confidently on the door; some one stirred within, and it
was presently opened to him. He thought now that he would be
questioned, but the man who opened to him, a grave serving-man, made a
motion with his hand, and he went up a flight of stone steps.
As he went up, there came out from a door, as though to meet him with
honour, a tall and noble personage, very cheerful and comely, and with
a courteous greeting took him into a large room richly furnished;
Ralph began to tell his story, but the man made a quiet gesture with
his hand as though no explanation was needed, and went at once to a
press, which he opened, and brought out from it a small coffer, which
seemed heavy, and opened it before him; Ralph could not see clearly
what it contained, but he saw the sparkle of gold and what seemed like
jewels. The man smiled at him, and as though in reply to a question
said, "Yes, this is what you came to seek; and you are well worthy of
it; and my lord"--he bowed as he spoke--"is glad to bestow his riches
upon one who found the road so easy hither, and who came from so
honoured a friend." Then he said very courteously that he would
willingly have entertained him, and shown him more of the treasures of
the house; "but I know," he added, "that your business requires haste
and you would be gone;" and so he conducted him very gently down to
the door again, and presently Ralph was standing outside with the
precious coffer under his arm, wondering if he were not in a dream;
because he had found what he sought so soon, and with so little
trouble.
The porter stood at the door, and said in a quiet voice, "The way is
to the left, and through the wood." Ralph thanked him, and the porter
said, "You know, young sir, of what you are to beware, for the forest
has an evil name?" And when Ralph replied that he knew, the porter
said that it was well to start betimes, because the way was somewhat
long. So Ralph went out along the road, and saw the porter standing at
the door for a long time, watching him, he thought, with a kind of
tender gaze.
Ralph took the road that led to the left, very light-hearted; it was
pleasant under the pines, which had made a soft brown carpet of
needles; and the scent of the pine-gum was sharp and sweet. He went
for a mile or two thus, while the day darkened above him, and the wind
whispered like a falling sea among the branches. At last he came to
another great marsh, but a path led down to it from the road, and in
the path were strange marks as though some heavy thing had been
dragged along, with footprints on either side. Ralph went a few steps
down the path, when suddenly an evil smell passed by him; he had been
thinking of a picture in one of Father John's books of a man fighting
with a dragon, and the brave horned creature, with its red mouth and
white teeth, with ribbed wings and bright blue burnished mail, and a
tail armed with a sting, had seemed to him a curious and beautiful
sight, that a man might well desire to see; the thought of danger was
hardly in his heart.
Suddenly he heard below him in the reeds a great routing and
splashing; the rushes parted, and he saw a huge and ugly creature,
with black oily sides and a red mane of bristles, raise itself up and
regard him. Its sides dropped with mud, and its body was wrapped with
clinging weeds. But it moved so heavily and slow, and drew itself out
on to the bank with such pain, that Ralph saw that there was little
danger to one so fleet as himself, if he drew not near. The beast
opened its great mouth, and Ralph saw a blue tongue and a pale throat;
it regarded him hungrily with small evil eyes; but Ralph sprang
backwards, and laughed to see how lumberingly the brute trailed itself
along. Its hot and fetid breath made a smoke in the still air;
presently it desisted, and as though it desired the coolness, it
writhed back into the water again. And Ralph saw that it was only a
beast that crept upon its prey by stealth, and that though if he had
slept, or bathed in the pool, it might have drawn him in to devour
him, yet that one who was wary and active need have no fear; so he
went on his way; and blew out great breaths to get the foul watery
smell of the monster out of his nostrils.
Suddenly he began to feel weary; he did not know what time of day it
was in this strange country, where all was fresh like a dewy morning;
he had not seen the sun, though the sky was clear, and he fell to
wondering where the light came from; as he wondered, he came to a
stone bench by the side of the road where he thought he would sit a
little; he would be all the fresher for a timely rest; he sate down,
and as though to fill the place with a heavenly peace, he heard at
once doves hallooing in the thicket close at hand; while he sate
drinking in the charm of the sound, there was a flutter of wings, and
a dove alighted close to his feet; it walked about crooning softly,
with its nodding neck flashing with delicate colours, and its pink
feet running swiftly on the grass. He felt in his pocket and found
there a piece of bread which he had taken with him in the morning and
had never thought of tasting; he crumbled it for the bird, who fell to
picking it eagerly and gratefully, bowing its head as though in
courteous acknowledgment. Ralph leant forwards to watch it, and the
ground swam before his weary eyes. He sate back for a moment, and then
he would have slept, when he saw a small bright thing dart from a
crevice of the stone seat on to his knee. He bent forward to look at
it, and saw that it was a thing like a lizard, but without legs, of a
powdered green, strangely bright. It nestled on his knee in a little
coil and watched him with keen eyes. The trustfulness of these wild
creatures pleased him wonderfully. Suddenly, very far away and yet
near him, he heard the sound of a voice, like a man in prayer; it
reminded him, he knew not why, of the Wise Man's voice, and he rose to
his feet ashamed of his drowsiness. The little lizard darted from his
leg and on to the ground, as though vexed to be disturbed, and he saw
it close to his feet. The dove saw it too, and went to it as though
inquiringly; the lizard showed no fear, but coiled itself up, and as
the dove came close, made a little dart at its breast, and the dove
drew back. Ralph was amused at the fearlessness of the little thing,
but in a moment saw that something ailed the dove; it moved as though
dizzy, and then spread its wings as if for flight, but dropped them
again and nestled down on the ground. In a moment its pretty head fell
forwards and it lay motionless. Then with a shock of fear Ralph saw
that he had been nearly betrayed; that this was the Snake itself of
which he had been warned; he struck with his staff at the little
venomous thing, which darted forward with a wicked hiss, and Ralph
only avoided it with a spring. Then without an instant's thought he
turned and ran along the wood-path, chiding himself bitterly for his
folly. He had nearly slept; he had only not been stung to death; and
he thought of how he would have lain, a stiffening figure, till the
crows gathered round him and pulled the flesh from his bones.
After this the way became more toilsome; the track indeed was plain
enough, but it was strewn with stones, and little thorny plants grew
everywhere, which tripped his feet and sometimes pierced his skin; it
grew darker too, as though night were coming on. Presently he came to
a clearing in the forest; on a slope to his right hand, he saw a
little hut of boughs, with a few poor garden herbs about it. A man was
crouched among them, as though he were digging; he was only some
thirty paces away; Ralph stopped for a moment, and the man rose up and
looked at him. Ralph saw a strangely distorted face under a hairless
brow. There were holes where the eyes should have been, and in these
the eyes were so deeply sunk that they looked but like pits of shade.
Presently the other began to move towards him, waving a large
misshapen hand which gleamed with a kind of scurfy whiteness; and he
cried out unintelligible words, which seemed half angry, half piteous.
Ralph knew that the Leper was before him, and though he loathed to fly
before so miserable a wretch, he turned and hurried on into the
forest; the creature screamed the louder, and it seemed as though he
were asking an alms, but he hobbled so slowly on his thick legs,
foully bandaged with rags, that Ralph soon distanced him, and he heard
the wretch stop and fall to cursing. This sad and fearful encounter
made Ralph sick at heart; but he strove to thank God for another
danger escaped, and hastened on.
Gradually he became aware by various signs that he was approaching
some inhabited place; all at once he came upon a fair house in a piece
of open ground, that looked to him at first so like the house of the
treasure, that he thought he had come back to it. But when he looked
more closely upon it, he saw that it was not the same; it was somewhat
more meanly built, and had not the grave and solid air that the other
had; presently he heard a sound of music, like a concert of lutes and
trumpets, which came from the house, and when it ceased there was
clapping of hands.
While he doubted whether to draw near, he saw that the door was
opened, and a man, richly dressed and of noble appearance, came out
upon the space in front of the house. He looked about him with a grave
and serene air, like a prince awaiting guests. And his eyes falling
upon Ralph, he beckoned him to draw near. Ralph at first hesitated.
But it seemed to him an unkindly thing to turn his back upon this
gallant gentleman who stood there smiling; so he drew near. And then
the other asked him whither he was bound. Ralph hardly knew what to
reply to this, but the gentleman awaited not his answer, but said that
this was a day of festival, and all were welcome, and he would have
him come in and abide with them. Ralph excused himself, but the
gentleman smiled and said, "I know, sir, that you are bound upon a
journey, as many are that pass this way; but you carry no burden with
you, as is the wont of others." And then Ralph, with a start of
surprise and anguish, remembered that he had left his coffer on the
seat where he had seen the Snake. He explained his loss to the
gentleman, who laughed and said that this was easily mended, for he
would send himself a servant to fetch it. And then he asked whether he
had been in any peril, and when Ralph told him, he nodded his head
gravely, and said it was a great danger escaped. And then Ralph told
him of the Leper, at which the gentleman grew grave, and said that it
was well he had not stopped to speak with him, for the contagion of
that leprosy was sore and sudden. And then he added, "But while I send
to recover your coffer, you will enter and sit with us; you look
weary, and you shall eat of our meat, for it is good meat that
strengtheneth; but wine," he said, "I will not offer you, though I
have it here in abundance, for it weakeneth the knees of those that
walk on a journey; but you shall delight your heart with music, such
as the angels love, and set forth upon your way rejoicing; for indeed
it is not late."
And so Ralph was persuaded, and they drew near to the door. Then the
gentleman stood aside to let Ralph enter; and Ralph saw within a hall
with people feasting, and minstrels in a gallery; but just as he set
foot upon the threshold he turned; for it seemed that he was plucked
by a hand; and he saw the gentleman, with the smile all faded from his
face, and his robe had shifted from his side; and Ralph saw that his
side was swollen and bandaged, and then his eye fell upon the
gentleman's knee, which was bare, and it was all scurfed and scarred.
And he knew that he was in the hands of the Leper himself.
He drew back with a shudder, but the gentleman gathered his robe about
him, and said with a sudden sternness, "Nay, it were discourteous to
draw back now; and indeed I will compel you to come in." Then Ralph
knew that he was betrayed; but he bethought him of the little star
that he carried with him, and he took it out and held it before him,
and said, "Here is a token that I may not halt." And at that the
gentleman's face became evil, and he gnashed with his teeth, and moved
towards him, as though to seize him. But Ralph saw that he feared the
star. So he went backwards holding it forth; and as the Leper pressed
upon him, he touched him with the star; and at that the Leper cried
aloud, and ran within the house; and there came forth a waft of
doleful music like a dirge for the dead.
Then Ralph went into the wood and stood there awhile in dreadful
thought; but it came into his mind that there could be no turning
back, and that he must leave his precious coffer behind, "and
perhaps," he thought, "the Wise Man will let me adventure again." So
he went on with a sad and sober heart, but he thanked God as he went
for another danger hardly escaped.
And it grew darker now; so dark that he often turned aside among the
trees; till at last he came out on the edge of the forest, and knew
that he was near the end. In front of him rose a wide hillside, the
top of which was among the clouds; and he could see the track faintly
glimmering upwards through the grass; the forest lay like a black wall
behind him, and he was now deathly weary of his journey, and could but
push one foot before the other.
But for all his weariness he felt that it grew colder as he went
higher; he gathered his cloak around him, but the cold began to pierce
his veins; so that he knew that he was coming to the Grey Frost, and
how to escape from it he knew not. The grass grew crisp with frost,
and the tall thistles that grew there snapped as he touched them. By
the track there rose in several places tall tussocks of grass, and
happening to pass close by one of these, he saw something gleam white
amid the grass; so he looked closer upon it, and then his heart grew
cold within him, for he saw that the grass grew thick out of the bones
of a skeleton, through the white ribs and out of the sightless eyes.
And he saw that each of the tussocks marked the grave of a man.
Then he came higher still, and the ground felt like iron below his
feet; and over him came a dreadful drowsiness, till his only thought
was to lie down and sleep; his breath came out like a white cloud and
hung round him, and yet he saw the hill rising in front. Then he
marked something lie beside the track; and he saw that it was a man
down upon his face, wrapped in a cloak. He tried to lift him up, but
the body seemed stiff and cold, and the face was frozen to the ground;
and when he raised it the dirt was all hard upon the face. So he left
it lying and went on. At last he could go no farther; all was grey and
still round him, covered with a bleak hoar-frost. To left and right he
saw figures lying, grey and frozen, so that the place was like a
battlefield; and still the mountain towered up pitilessly in front; he
sank upon his knees and tried to think, but his brain was all
benumbed. Then he put his face to the ground, and his breath made a
kind of warmth about him, while the cold ate into his limbs; but as he
lay he heard a groan, and looking up he saw a figure that lay close to
the track rise upon its knees and sink down again.
So Ralph struggled again to his feet with the thought that if he must
die he would like to die near another man; and he came up to the
figure; and he saw that it was a boy, younger than himself, wrapped in
a cloak. His hat had fallen off, and he could see his curls all
frosted over a cheek that was smooth and blue with cold. By his side
lay a little coffer and a staff, like his own. And Ralph, speaking
with difficulty through frozen lips, said, "And what do you here? You
are too young to be here." The other turned his face upon him, all
drawn with anguish, and said, "Help me, help me; I have lost my way."
And Ralph sate down beside him and gathered the boy's body into his
arms; and it seemed as though the warmth revived him, for the boy
looked gratefully at him and said, "So I am not alone in this dreadful
place."
Then Ralph said to him that there was no time to be lost, and that
they were near their end. "But it seems to me," he added, "that a
little farther up the grass looks greener, as if the cold were not so
bitter there; let us try to help each other a few paces farther, if we
may avoid death for a little." So they rose slowly and painfully, and
now Ralph would lead the boy a step or two on; and then he would lean
upon the boy, who seemed to grow stronger, for a pace or two; till
suddenly it came into Ralph's mind that the cold was certainly less;
and so like two dying men they struggled on, step by step, until the
ground grew softer under their feet and the grass darker, and then,
looking round, Ralph could see the circle of the Grey Frost below
them, all white and hoary in the uncertain light.
Presently they struggled out on to a ridge of the long hill; and here
they rested on their staves, and talked for a moment like old friends;
and the boy showed Ralph his coffer, and said, "But you have none?"
And Ralph shook his head and said, "Nay, I left it on the seat of the
Snake." And then Ralph asked him of the Leper's house, and the boy
told him that he had seen it indeed, but had feared and made a circuit
in the wood, and that he had there seen a fearful sight; for at the
back of the Leper's house was a cage, like a kennel of hounds, and in
it sate a score of wretched men with their eyes upon the ground, who
had wandered from the way; and that he had heard a barking of dogs,
and men had come out from the house, but that he had fled through the
woods.
While they thus talked together, Ralph saw that hard by them was a
rock, and in the rock a hole like a cave; so he said to the boy, "Let
us stand awhile out of the wind; and then will we set out again." So
the boy consented; and they came to the cave; but Ralph wondered
exceedingly to see a door set in the rock-face; and he put out his
hand and pulled the door; and it opened; and a voice from within
called him by name.
Then in a moment Ralph saw that he was in the house of the Wise Man,
who sate in his chair, regarding him with a smile, like a father
welcoming a son. All seemed the same; and it was very grateful to
Ralph to see the sun warm on the ceiling, and to smell the honeyed air
that came in from the garden.
Then he went forward, and fell on his knees and laid the staff and the
star down, and would have told the Wise Man his tale; but the Wise Man
said, "Went not my heart with thee, my son?"
Then Ralph told him how he had left his treasure, expecting to be
chidden. But the Wise Man said, "Heed it not, for thou hast a better
treasure in thy heart."
Then Ralph remembered that he had left his companion outside, and
asked if he might bring him in; but the Wise Man said, "Nay, he has
entered by another way." And presently he bade Ralph return home in
peace, and blessed him in a form of words which Ralph could not
afterwards remember, but it sounded very sweet. And Ralph asked
whether he might come again, but the Wise Man said, "Nay, my son."
Then Ralph went home in wonder; and though the journey had seemed very
long, he found that it was still morning in Birnewood.
Then he returned to the Parsonage; and the next day Father John
returned, and told him that the lands would be restored to him; and as
they talked, Father John said, "My son, what new thing has come to
you? for there is a light in your eye that was not lit before." But
Ralph could not tell him.
So Ralph became a great knight, and did worthily; and in his hall
there hang three pictures in one frame; to the left is a little green
snake on a stone bench; to the right a leprous man richly clad; and in
the centre a grey mist, with a figure down on its face. And some folk
ask Ralph to explain the picture, and he smiles and says it is a
vision; but others look at the picture in a strange wonder, and then
look in Ralph's face, and he knows that they understand, and that they
too have been to the Country of Dreams.