“So I do,” said Lirette, and she kissed him. “Yet am I heavy at heart and fearful, for my father is sorely mishandled and his arm is broken, so that he cannot tend the Mill nor guard it. And Flumen is escaped; surely he will harm us again. Now I know not, where I shall look for help.” “Why not here?” said Martimor. Then Lirette looked him in the face, smiling a little sorrily. “But thou ridest in a quest,” quoth she, “thou mayst not stay from thy adventures.” “A month,” said he. “Till my father be well?” said she. “A month,” said he. “Till thou hast put Flumen to the worse?” said she. “Right willingly would I have to do with that base, slippery knave again,” said he, “but more than a month I may not stay, for my quest calls me and I must win worship of men or ever I become a knight.” So they bound up the miller’s wounds and set the Mill in order. But Martimor had much to do to learn the working of the Mill; and they were busied with the grinding of wheat and rye and barley and divers kinds of grain; and the millers hurts were mended every day; and at night there was merry rest and good cheer; and Martimor talked with the Maid of the great adventure that he must find; and thus the delay endured in pleasant wise. THE MILL V Yet More of the Mill, and of the Same Delay, also of the Maid Now at the end of the third month, which was November, Martimor made Lirette to understand that it was high time he should ride farther to follow his quest. For the miller was now recovered, and it was long that they had heard and seen naught of Flumen, and doubtless that black knave was well routed and dismayed that he would not come again. Lirette prayed him and desired him that he would tarry yet one week. But Martimor said, No! for his adventures were before him, and that he could not be happy save in the doing of great deeds and the winning of knightly fame. Then he showed her the Blue Flower in his shield that was nameless, and told her how Sir Lancelot had said that he must find it, then should he name it and have both crest and motto. “Does it grow in my garden?” said Lirette. “I have not seen it,” said he, “and now the flowers are all faded.” “Perhaps in the month of May?” said she. “In that month I will come again,” said he, “for by that time it may fortune that I shall achieve my quest, but now forth must I fare.” So there was sad cheer in the Mill that day, and at night there came a fierce storm with howling wind and plumping rain, and Martimor slept ill. About the break of day he was wakened by a great roaring and pounding; then he looked out of window, and saw the river in flood, with black waves spuming and raving, like wood beasts, and driving before them great logs and broken trees. Thus the river hurled and hammered at the mill-dam so that it trembled, and the logs leaped as they would spring over it, and the voice of Flumen shouted hoarsely and hungrily, “Yet will I mar the Mill and have the Maid!”