As he chopped and chipped through the long weeks of early spring, while the easterly winds bent the trees above him, till the buds unfolded and the leaves expanded—­while his hands were thus employed, the whole map, as it were, of the known countries seemed to pass without volition before his mind.  He saw the cities along the shores of the great Lake; he saw their internal condition, the weakness of the social fabric, the misery of the bondsmen.  The uncertain action of the League, the only thread which bound the world together; the threatening aspect of the Cymry and the Irish; the dread north, the vast northern forests, from which at any time invading hosts might descend on the fertile south—­it all went before his eyes.

What was there behind the immense and untraversed belt of forest which extended to the south, to the east, and west?  Where did the great Lake end?  Were the stories of the gold and silver mines of Devon and Cornwall true?  And where were the iron mines, from which the ancients drew their stores of metal?

Led by these thoughts he twice or thrice left his labour, and walking some twenty miles through the forests, and over the hills, reached the summit of White Horse.  From thence, resting on the sward, he watched the vessels making slow progress by oars, and some drawn with ropes by gangs of men or horses on the shore, through the narrow straits.  North and South there nearly met.  There was but a furlong of water between them.  If ever the North came down there the armies would cross. There was the key of the world.  Excepting the few cottages where the owners of the horses lived, there was neither castle nor town within twenty miles.

Forced on by these thoughts, he broke the long silence which had existed between him and his father.  He spoke of the value and importance of this spot; could not the Baron send forth his retainers and enclose a new estate there?  There was nothing to prevent him.  The forest was free to all, provided that they rendered due service to the Prince.  Might not a house or castle built there become the beginning of a city?  The Baron listened, and then said he must go and see that a new hatch was put in the brook to irrigate the water-meadow.  That was all.

Felix next wrote an anonymous letter to the Prince pointing out the value of the place.  The Prince should seize it, and add to his power.  He knew that the letter was delivered, but there was no sign.  It had indeed, been read and laughed at.  Why make further efforts when they already had what they desired?  One only, the deep and designing Valentine, gave it serious thought in secret.  It seemed to him that something might come of it, another day, when he was himself in power—­if that should happen.  But he, too, forgot it in a week.  Some secret effort was made to discover the writer, for the council were very jealous of political opinion, but it soon ended.  The idea, not being supported by money or influence, fell into oblivion.