with slow majesty till it swung clear of the
horizon and rode off, free of moorings; and once more they began to see
surfaces--meadows wide-spread, and quiet gardens, and the river itself
from bank to bank, all softly disclosed, all washed clean of mystery
and terror, all radiant again as by day, but with a difference that was
tremendous. Their old haunts greeted them again in other raiment, as if
they had slipped away and put on this pure new apparel and come quietly
back, smiling as they shyly waited to see if they would be recognised
again under it.

Fastening their boat to a willow, the friends landed in this silent,
silver kingdom, and patiently explored the hedges, the hollow trees,
the runnels and their little culverts, the ditches and dry water-ways.
Embarking again and crossing over, they worked their way up the stream
in this manner, while the moon, serene and detached in a cloudless sky,
did what she could, though so far off, to help them in their quest; till
her hour came and she sank earthwards reluctantly, and left them, and
mystery once more held field and river.

Then a change began slowly to declare itself. The horizon became
clearer, field and tree came more into sight, and somehow with a
different look; the mystery began to drop away from them. A bird piped
suddenly, and was still; and a light breeze sprang up and set the reeds
and bulrushes rustling. Rat, who was in the stern of the boat, while
Mole sculled, sat up suddenly and listened with a passionate intentness.
Mole, who with gentle strokes was just keeping the boat moving while he
scanned the banks with care, looked at him with curiosity.

'It's gone!' sighed the Rat, sinking back in his seat again. 'So
beautiful and strange and new. Since it was to end so soon, I almost
wish I had never heard it. For it has roused a longing in me that is
pain, and nothing seems worth while but just to hear that sound once
more and go on listening to it for ever. No! There it is again!' he
cried, alert once more. Entranced, he was silent for a long space,
spellbound.

'Now it passes on and I begin to lose it,' he said presently. 'O Mole!
the beauty of it! The merry bubble and joy, the thin, clear, happy call
of the distant piping! Such music I never dreamed of, and the call in
it is stronger even than the music is sweet! Row on, Mole, row! For the
music and the call must be for us.'

The Mole, greatly wondering, obeyed. 'I hear nothing myself,' he said,