* * *

It was a young winter of cloudless skies. The stars flashed silver in the velvet, frozen nights, and all the short day long the sun betrayed the earth into thinking it was spring. And late one Sunday afternoon at the end of the first week of January. Colin and Susan climbed out of Alderley village, pushing their bicycles before them. They walked slowly, for it was not a hill to be rushed, and the last stretch was the worst—straight and steep. without any respite. But once they were at the top, the going was comparatively good.

They did not ride more than a hundred yards, however, for Colin. who was leading, jammed on his brakes so violently that he half-fell from the bicycle and Susan nearly piled on top of him.

“Look!” he gasped. “Look over there!”

It could be only Cadellin. He stood against the skyline of Castle Rock, staff in hand, facing the plain.

At once all promises were forgotten: the children dropped their bicycles and ran.

“Cadellin! Cadellin!”

The wizard spun round at the sound of their voices, and made as if to leave the rock. But after three strides he checked his pace, stood for a moment, and then walked to the bench and sat down.

“Oh, Cadellin, we thought something must have happened to you!” cried Susan, sobbing with relief.

“Many things have happened to me, but I do not feel the worse for that!”

There was displeasure in his face, tempered with understanding.

“But we were so worried,” said Colin. “When the owls disappeared we wondered if you’d… you’d…”

“I see!” said Cadellin, breaking into laughter. “No, no, no, you must not look on life so fearfully. We called the birds away because we knew that you were no longer in danger from the morthbrood.”

“Well, we thought of that,” said Colin, “but we couldn’t help thinking of other things, too.”