And the earth wore an under-robe of scent, delicious, very finely woven of the young fern sap, heather buds; larch-trees not yet odourless, gorse just going brown, drifted woodsmoke, and the breath of hawthorn.

Above Earth's twin vestments of sound and scent, the blue enwrapping scarf of air, that wistful wide champaign, was spanned only by the wings of Freedom.
After that long drink of the day, the riders mounted almost in silence to the very top of the moor.

There again they sat quite still on their horses, examining the prospect.

Far away to South and East lay the sea, plainly visible.

Two small groups of wild ponies were slowly grazing towards each other on the hillside below.
Courtier said in a low voice: "'Thus will I sit and sing, with love in my arms; watching our two herds mingle together, and below us the far, divine, cerulean sea.'" And, after another silence, looking steadily in Barbara's face, he added: "Lady Barbara, I am afraid this is the last time we shall be alone together.