[Nurumaiel]

Hamson wasn't sure to feel pleased or upset when the rain ended. Now that he had gotten wet the sunshine was welcome, but sunny days were not the kind of days he really enjoyed. Feeling a bit gloomy still about Melilot's quick departure, he decided to stay outside for a little while, hoping the singing of the birds would make him feel better. He was anxious to get the matter of the hole resolved, but if Melilot wouldn't listen to his reasonable suggestions and insisted on just taking the hole without further ado.

Hamson stuck his hands in his pockets and with a start realized that his tin whistle was still there. Taking it out, he put it to his lips and, without hesitation, began to play a lively tune. He wasn't sure if it would reach the Inn or not, but he hoped not. It might disturb some of the guests, and, even worse, someone might ask him to play for everyone. The very thought of it made him blush a deep crimson red. He couldn't do that.

Melilot's face appeared at one of the windows, looking sourly at him. He paused in his playing, then grinned as he remembered how much his music annoyed her. Selecting another tune, he began to play louder than ever.