E-text prepared by Audrey Longhurst, Charlie Kirschner,
and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
"My name is Eagle," said the little girl.
The boy said nothing.
"My name is Eagle," she repeated. "Eagle de Ferrier. What isyour name?"
Still the boy said nothing.
She looked at him surprised, but checked her displeasure. He wasabout nine years old, while she was less than seven. By the dimlight which sifted through the top of St. Bat's church he did notappear sullen. He sat on the flagstones as if dazed and stupefied,facing a blacksmith's forge, which for many generations hadoccupied the north transept. A smith and some apprentices hammeredmeasures that echoed with multiplied volume from the Norman roof;and the crimson fire made a spot vivid as blood. A low stone arch,half walled up, and blackened by smoke, fra