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 she had looked forward for a long time. Jacob went with them.

When the huntsman was leading his young wife through the house he brought her to the room which had been his own. From the wall above the bed he took down a wreath which was now all withered.

“Do you recognize it?” he asked Bára. It was the very wreath which had caught on the branches of the willow on St. John’s morn. Bára smiled.

“Whom were you thinking of when you threw it to the water?” questioned the huntsman, drawing her to his heart.

Bára did not answer, but put her arms around his neck and lifted up to him a pair of lovely, smiling eyes which the people had called “bull’s eyes,” but which the huntsman regarded as the most beautiful eyes in the whole wide world.