So I rode with him at my side to one of these, but it was not that which I sought; and, as I hoped, the man was more willing to speak, and we got on well enough.

We had not met with a soul all day, but my hawk had taken two bustard after I saw the stone and was disappointed.

One of these as a gift to the shepherd had opened his lips wonderfully, and we were talking as we rode in the dusk, and were not so far from the village, of another stone that I was to see next day, when I asked him if he had ever heard of the lost valley of pool and menhir.
He did not answer, but shrunk to my side, looking round him fearfully.
"What comes, Lord," he said, whispering;--"see yonder ?" He pointed across the bare hillside, and I looked but saw nothing.
"I saw nought," I said.

"Is it unlucky to speak of the place ?" "I saw somewhat leap from yonder rock," he whispered; "it went behind that other." Plainly the man was terrified, and I asked him what he feared.
"The good folk, Lord." "Pixies ?--Do they come when one speaks of the lost valley ?" "Speak lower, Lord,--lower! Look, yonder it is again!" Then I also saw in the dusk the figure of a man who crept softly from one great boulder to another, and without thinking of the terror of the shepherd I spurred my horse, and rode straight for the rock behind which the figure disappeared, having no mind to have an arrow put into me at short range by one of the men of Tregoz--or of Morfed--unawares.
The shepherd howled in fright when he was left, but I did not heed him, and in a moment I was round the rock and almost on the cowering man whom I had seen.

He turned to fly, and I cried to him to stop, but he only got another rock between me and him, for the hillside was covered with them, and shrank behind it, so that I could only see his wild eyes as he glared at me across it.