Rhoecus

And after that Rhoecus heard no other sound, save the rustling of the oak's crisp leaves, like surf upon a distant shore.

Then straight through the window flew the wounded bee, while Rhoecus watched its fight with angry eyes.

And straightway she vanished, and Rhoecus could see nothing but the green glooms beneath the shadowy oak.

Filled with wonder and joy Rhoecus turned his steps homeward.