62 The Hermit of the Pillar

his eyes thoughtfully on the young man’s
face.
~ “ Nay, I have told thee all that is worth
the telling.”

“Then hast thou always lived this life?”
the Hermit asked.

“Ever since I was a small lad —such a
one as the little maid in front, and she will
be in her seventh year, or it may be a little
older. Before me was my father goose-herd ;
and he taught me the windings of the jour-
ney to the city, and the best resting-places,
and the ways of geese, and the meaning of
their cries, and what pleaseth them and serv-
eth flesh and feather, and how they should
be driven. And now, in turn, I teach the
child, for there be goose-girls as well as
men.”

“Ts she then thy young sister, or may it
be that she is thy daughter ?”’

“Neither young sister nor daughter is
she,” replied the Herd, “and yet in truth
she is both sister and daughter.”

“Wilt thou tell me how that may be?”
asked the Hermit.

“Tt is shortly told,” said the Herd.
“Robbers broke into their poor and lonely