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The humblest shelter, the meanest food I know what you would say. But not even a night's housing in the cattle-byre or a plate of broken victuals is to be had from Messer Hugolin unless one is prepared to pay, and roundly, too. Remember that I, too, am of his blood, and have dwelt in his house." The girl's eyes grew cloudy and troubled. "There is the town itself," she faltered.
His mother sat between the stove and his bed with a sore heart; and his father, as he went to and fro between the walls of beaten snow from the wood-shed to the cattle-byre, was sorrowful, thinking to himself the child would die and join that earlier Findelkind whose home was with the saints. But the child did not die.
He had heard the words of his herdsman, and he knew that he had' gone astray, even like a lost bull. As for this thatched cattle-byre that they had built, let him who asked for it have it! Was it not his own? One after another spoke. Their speeches all had the same import let the church be handed over to him that asked.
An hour later, the moon was well up in the sky, though the light was not yet brilliant, and they parted by the wall of the cattle-byre with promises to meet on the morrow, and he turned and left her standing in the shadow; but some instinct moved him, and he returned and kissed her yet again, and said one more farewell; then he took the narrow track leading down to the river, and Merla knew that she must hasten home; for her father, who had been out in the early evening, would be returning.
'It's only a glorified stone cattle-byre, and an intensified stone Kaffir hut, Spenser commented. 'It's not even built the old Mabgwe way. These are only blocks of granite; a few of them broken, but not one of them dressed. And there's lots of mud to eke them out. 'Yet there's hope in the thing. It's not an artistic dead-end like Saint Uriel's, I pleaded.
None had heard this, for Bonus, his meal ended, went off to the little tallet over a cattle-byre which was his private apartment. "You'd rip that up again you, who swore never to open' your mouth upon it?" "You're frightened now." "Not of you, anyway. But you'd best not to come up here no more.
His mother sat between the stove and his bed with a sore heart; and his father, as he went to and fro between the walls of beaten snow from the wood-shed to the cattle-byre, was sorrowful, thinking to himself the child would die, and join that earlier Findelkind whose home was with the saints. But the child did not die.
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