"Yes, I know--I'm sure I shall,
Peregrine, and what should you do then?"
"Grieve, child!"
"Look!" she whispered suddenly, bending to stare down into the glory
of the brook, "O Peregrine--do you see it?" From the stream she
pointed upward to the radiant heaven where, immediately above us,
sailed a small, curiously-shaped cloud. "Do you see it, Peregrine?"
"Only a little, golden cloud, Diana."
"It is--the 'Hand of Glory,'" she whispered.
"What is it--what does it mean?"
"It means, Peregrine, it means that you--that I--oh, you must find
out!" And snatching her hand from mine, she fled from me into the
wood.
CHAPTER XXVII
JUNO VERSUS DIANA
I was busily engaged blowing the bellows of the Tinker's small,
portable forge; besides the making and mending of kettles, pots, pans
and the like, it seems he was a skilful smith also, able to turn his
hand from shoeing a horse to fashioning such diverse implements as the
rustic community had need of, for beside the forge lay a pile of
billhooks, axe-heads, sickle-blades and the like, finished or in the
making.
So I blew the fire, wielded the heavy sledge-hammer or stood absorbed
to watch the deft strokes of his hammer draw out, bend and shape the
glowing steel, though turning very often to behold Diana sitting near
by, her quick hands busied upon the construction of her baskets of
rush or peeled willow: thus despite the heat of the fire, the
sulphurous flames and the smoke-grime that besmirched me, I laboured
joyously and swung the ponderous sledge more vigorously for the
knowledge that her bright eyes were often raised to watch me at my
work.
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