Ivra threw her arms about his neck and kissed him.  “Good-by, comrade,” was all she said.

He kissed her cheeks.  “I’ll come back,” he promised.  But before he had gone many steps he turned to see her again.  She was standing in the billow of leaves, a lonely-looking little girl, her face paler than it had been even on that day of the wind-hunt.  He wanted to run back to her and tell her he would be her playmate always, and never leave the Forest.  But he wanted, too, to go on and across the sea and into foreign lands.  He stayed irresolute.

And then quite suddenly, standing just behind Ivra, he saw Tree Mother.  She was not looking at him at all, but at Ivra, and her eyes were kind stars.  When Ivra turned to go home she must walk right into Tree Mother’s arms and against her breast.  So Eric was happy again, Ivra could not be lonely with dear Tree Mother.  Perhaps she would take her up in her air-boat high above the falling leaves, where she could look down on the magic.  He waved, calling, “Remember me to the Snow Witches when they come.”  That was not because he really wanted to be remembered to them but because he knew that Ivra liked them best of all, and it would please her.

She nodded and waved too, and threw him a kiss.  Then a shower of fluttering leaves came between the playmates.

When it was clear again Eric had run on out of sight, and was lost to Ivra in the Forest.  On and on and on through the showers of golden leaves he went, magic at his elbow and around him, and beckoning ahead of him.  And after long walking and many thoughts, at last he did see the sea, gleaming blue and white sparkles between the golden trees.