They both stood silent a moment, gazing out together on that strange, inexplicable fulfilment of the poet's vision.
Up to them, through the crystal morning air, rose a faint, small sound of waters, from the brooklet in the forest. The nesting birds, below, were busy "in song and solace"; and through the golden sky above, a swallow slanted on sharp wing toward some unseen, leafy goal.
Far out upon the river, faint specks of white wheeled and hovered--a flock of swooping gulls, snowy and beautiful and free. Their pinions flashed, spiralled and sank to rest on the wide waters.
Stern breathed a sigh. His right arm slipped about the sinuous, fur-robed body of the girl.
"Come, now!" said he, with returning practicality. "Bath for you, breakfast for both of us--then we must buckle down to work. Come!"