Chapter XXXII
                              
                         Conclusion


I should like to conclude with a few words as to the fate of
the various people who have appeared in these pages.
   Hazel Gibberty married Sebastian Thug -- and an excellent
husband he made her.  He gave up the sea and settled on his
wife's farm.  Mistress Ivy Peppercorn came and lived with
them and every summer they had a visit from Master Nathaniel
and Ranulph.  Bawdy Bess left Lud at the time of Sebastian's
marriage -- out of pique, said the malicious.
   Luke Hempen entered the Lud Yeomanry, where he did so
well that when Mumchance retired he was elected Captain in
his place.
   Hempie lived to a ripe old age -- long enough to tell her
stories to Ranulph's children; nor had she any scruples
about telling *them* her views on "neighbourliness."  And
when she died, as a tribute to her long and loving service,
she was buried in the family chapel of the Chanticleers.
   Mother Tibbs, after taking a conspicuous part in the wild
revels which followed on the arrival of the fairy army,
vanished for ever from Dorimare.  Nor did anyone ever again
see Portunus.  But, from time to time, a wild red-haired
youth would arrive uninvited, and having turned everything
topsy-turvy with his pranks, would rush from the house,
shouting "Ho! Ho! *Hoh!*"
   By degrees the Crabapple Blossoms recovered their
spirits.  But they certainly did not grow up into the sort
of young ladies their mothers had imagined they would when
they first sent them to Miss Primrose Crabapple's Academy. 
They were never stinted of fairy fruit, for the Dapple
continued to bring its tribute to Dorimare, adding thereby
considerably to the wealth of the country.  For, thanks to
the sound practical sense of Master Ambrose, a new industry
was started -- that of candying fairy fruit, and exporting
it to all the countries with which they trafficked, in
pretty fancy boxes, the painted lids of which showed that
art was creeping back to Dorimare.
   As for Ranulph, when he grew up he wrote the loveliest
songs that had been heard since the days of Duke Aubrey --
songs that crossed the sea and were sung by lonely fishermen
in the far North, and by indigo mothers crooning to their
babies by the doors of their huts in the Cinnamon Isles. 
   Dame Marigold continued to smile, and to nibble marzipan
with her cronies.  But she used sometimes sadly to wonder
whether Master Nathaniel had ever really come back from
beyond the Debatable Hills; sometimes, but not always.
   And Master Nathaniel himself?  Whether he ever heard the
Note again I cannot say.  But in time he went, either to
reap the fields of gillyflowers, or to moulder in the Fields
of Grammary.  And below his coffin in the family chapel a
brass tablet was put up with this epitaph:

                           HERE LIES
                     NATHANIEL CHANTICLEER
              PRESIDENT OF THE GUILD OF MERCHANTS
              THREE TIMES MAYOR OF LUD-IN-THE-MIST
             TO WHOM WAS GRANTED NO SMALL SHARE OF
                    THE PEACE AND PROSPERITY
                     HE HELPED TO BESTOW ON
                     HIS TOWN AND COUNTRY.

An epitaph not unlike those he used to con so wistfully in
his visits to the Fields of Grammary.
   And this is but another proof that the Written Word is a
Fairy, as mocking and elusive as Willy Wisp, speaking lying
words to us in a feigned voice.  So let all readers of books
take warning!  And with this final exhortation this book
shall close.