Then he took his way to a little stream beneath the wall of the town, and on the other side he saw a manor-house, old and ruinous, standing amidst tall weeds. And thinking he might get lodging there for that night, he forded the river and went towards the manor. He saw that the hall-door yawned open, and that a marble bridge led up to it, over a wide ditch full of stagnant water and thick with green weeds and rushes. On the bridge sat an old and reverend man in clothes that once had been rich, but now were thin and tattered. And Geraint thought it was not possible that so poor a place could help him in what he desired. He looked steadfastly at the old man. 'Young sir,' said the latter, 'why art thou so thoughtful?' 'I was thinking, fair sir,' said Geraint, 'whether thou couldst give me lodging here for this night.' 'Of a surety,' said the old man, rising. 'It is poor we are, but such as can be given shall be of our best.' He led Sir Geraint into the hall, which was bleak and desolate, and the hearthstone in the centre was thick with last year's leaves, as if it had been long since fire had flickered upon it. On the wall there hung rusty weapons and helms, and through the cracks there crept the ivy from the outer wall. The horse was tethered in the hall by the old man. Then he led Sir Geraint to a door upon the dais, and ushered him into the bower, and there he saw an old decrepit woman, sweet of look though thin and peaked. She rose from the cushion on which she sat, greeting him kindly, and he saw that the satin garments upon her were also old and tattered. Yet Sir Geraint thought she must have been a lovely woman in her happy youth. Beside her was a maiden, upon whom was a vest and robe poor and thin, and the veil of her headcloth was old though clean. Yet truly, thought Geraint, he had never seen a lovelier maiden, nor one with more sweetness and grace in her smile or gentleness in her voice. And the heart of him stirred with pity to see her so pale and wan, as if she fared but poorly. 'Welcome, fair sir,' said the old dame. 'This is my daughter Enid, who will gladly prepare food for you.' When food had been prepared they sat down, and Geraint was placed between the white-haired man and his wife, and the maiden served them. Afterwards, as they drank weak mead from cups of earthenware, they spoke together; and Geraint asked whose was the manor in which they sat. 'Mine,' said the old man, 'for I built it. And the castle up there and the town were also mine.' 'Alas!' said Geraint, 'how is it you and yours have lost them?'