"Now out upon thee, to talk in that manner, Stutely! Stay, if thou dost list.

I go to see what may be the trouble of this poor creature." "Nay," quoth Stutely, "thou dost leap so quickly, thou'lt tumble into the ditch.

Who said I would not go?
Come along, say I." Thus saying, he led the way, the others following, till, after they had gone a short distance, they came to a little opening in the woodland, whence a brook, after gurgling out from under the tangle of overhanging bushes, spread out into a broad and glassy-pebbled pool.

By the side of this pool, and beneath the branches of a willow, lay a youth upon his face, weeping aloud, the sound of which had first caught the quick ears of Stutely.
His golden locks were tangled, his clothes were all awry, and everything about him betokened sorrow and woe.

Over his head, from the branches of the osier, hung a beautiful harp of polished wood inlaid with gold and silver in fantastic devices.