Now April was gone, and May was come with the thorn a-blossoming, and there was Birdalone waxing still in loveliness. And now the witch had left all girding at her even, and spake to her but little, save when she needs must. But to Birdalone it seemed that she watched her exceeding closely.

Birdalone went oft to the wood, and learned yet more of lore: but of the matter of the Departure, how it was to be gone about they spake no more, and great was the love betwixt them.

At last when May was worn nigh to June came Birdalone to the Oak of Tryst, and found the wood-mother there; and when they had talked a while, but ever from the teeth out, spake Habundia: Though thou be now the wiser of us two maybe, yet have I wisdom to wot that this is the hour of our sundering, and that tomorrow thou wilt try the adventure of the Sending Boat: is it not so? Yea, mother, said Birdalone; I bid thee farewell now: woe is me therefor! Said Habundia: And thou wilt deliver thyself into the hands of the witch,............