The girl started with a half-suppressed scream, and frightened her little companion so that he made use of his graceful wings to mount into a pear-tree at some distance. She looked above, and behind her, and on every side for the source of the voice; and it was some time before she spied the opening so near her feet. "Do not be afraid, lady," said the boy, when she at last caught his eye; "I am only a poor prisoner like yourself, and cannot harm you." The girl blushed a little, and tried by a quick motion of her hands to smooth back her hair and replace her hood. By this time, Geoffrey had had time to realize that he had spoken to a stranger, and that stranger a pretty young lady, so that when she stooped down and peeped in at him, his cheeks were crimson, and his eyes cast down, so that it was now her turn to re-assure him. "Nay, now, this is a right pleasant meeting, since we are fellow-prisoners, and it were a pity we should frighten one another. We must be friends, for all others here are our enemies. It is not often that a lady stoops to a gentleman, but even that is better than breaking one’s back by leaning over; so I will sit me down here where we can talk, hoping that you will one day be as much above me on your horse as you are now beneath me in dungeon-walls." So saying, she seated herself as close as possible to the opening, and continued with the utmost frankness: "But who are you, and how came you hither, and are you brother to the young lad I passed yesterday on my way from chapel? Is he much hurt? I saw sister Ursula strike him, and she hath a heavy hand." Her simplicity had made the boy quite forget his bashfulness, so he replied: "Nay, lady; except you bestow on me an extra tongue, how can I answer so many questions?" "Oh! one at a time, one at a time!" replied the girl laughing. "We shall have at least half an hour to tell each other our histories, for the nuns have gone to breakfast, and we will not be disturbed till the bell rings; so pray you begin your tale, sir captive knight." "No captive knight am I, only plain Geoffrey, son of Sir John De Forest, an outlaw for conscience’ sake, and it was my brother Hubert whom you met. We were brought here yesterday by Chichely’s men, having been seized in our retreat on the coast. My father’s castle is in ruins, and he himself hunted like an evil beast upon the mountains. But I think I saw you at London last summer, when there was preaching in the brickyard."