Led by Sylvia, the little company came out upon the road, which, after
all their little forest ways and lanes and by-paths seemed like the very
highroad of the world; and soon after they reached a great bridge with a
broad river flowing under it. Sir John's face lit up as though it had
been a cloud through which the sun had passed, and he cried “Ha!” and
stood stock still in the middle of the bridge.
“Is this the river, child, at last?” he said to Sylvia.
“Yes,” said she, “and the Hermit is over there behind the old canal
bed.”
“There let him bide,” said Sir John, “for now my heart dances in the
very shadow of its adventure.” And taking Audrey's hand, he added, “For
your sake, dear child, to whom I am pledged, I will follow this water
till I find the ball!”
She looked at him steadily, and said in her clear voice: “And I too have
given you my word. So marry me when you will.”
“I will marry you,” said Sir John, “as soon as we can find one to wed
us.”
“The Hermit of Hardham will do that,” said Sylvia, “for he sits all the
year round hoping for a wedding, and he has never wed anyone yet.”
“It is a pity to disappoint him,” said Sir John; “yet I will not lose my
river for a thousand hermits.”
“You won't lose it,” said Sylvia, “if you go by Hardham you'll find it
again at Pulborough Bridge as the crow flies.”
“So be it,” said the Knight. “Come, children.”
They went forward swiftly through the high, narrow path by the sunken
bed of the old canal, and at the other end climbed up the grassy
hillocks where the hermit of Hardham sat hoping for a wedding in a
little chapel of stone archways, with neither roof nor doors nor
windows, but with the bright air of heaven to serve him as all three.
Within the chapel was an altar decked with flowers, and flowers hung in
garlands and posies about the old stone-work, so that the chapel
blossomed like a bride's bower. And the Hermit sat on a boulder in the
evening sunlight, clad in a white robe, with a golden ring on either
hand, and a bowlful of crumbs on his left, and a dish of cabbage leaves
on his right, and a saucer of sugar and water at his sandalled feet. And
all about him were small rabbits at play, whom he fed with green leaves
from his right, and amongst them hopped a multitude of birds picking up
the crumbs he scattered with his left, some of the birds sitting on his
wrist and his knee to pick the crumbs from his hand and robe. And a
chaffinch was even clinging to the long, white beard on his breast where
a few crumbs had fallen, and before she flew off she pulled out three
hairs for her nest, and he suffered her, looking after her with his
gentle eyes. And a host of tiny insects hummed and hovered and sipped at
the saucer of sweet water. And a very small calf had got into the chapel
and had knocked down the Hermit's pitcher of supper milk, and was
licking it up. And this too he suffered with a loving look from his blue
eyes. And the tender sunshine bathed him from the crown of his head to
the sole of his foot.
But when he saw the company mounting the slope he said, “Friends, here
come brothers and sisters.” And he rose up so softly in his place that
not a bird or beast or insect was fluttered, and he stepped forward with
his old hands outstretched, and took Audrey's in his right, saying,
“Welcome, sweet bride.” Then he turned to Dick, and taking him by the
left hand said, “And you, young groom, welcome! to the loveliest
adventure in life.”
Audrey hung down her head, while Dick threw up his, and looked to Sir
John to speak. But at the word adventure Sir John had sat down and begun
to polish his shield.
There was a very long pause, in which nothing happened, and nobody
except Sir John knew what to do.
And then Audrey, in great confusion, whispered, “Oh Dick!”
Dick scratched his head, looked once more at Sir John, and said, “Well,
it's got to be done. There's no call to be frightened, dear.” For her
cheeks had turned as pale as wild roses before they are about to fall.
So Dick and Audrey went into the chapel with the Hermit of Hardham, and
the children and the animals went too. There the Hermit took from his
own hands the two gold rings, and wedded Dick and Audrey.