“That was in truth a strange man,” said the Lady Blanchefleur after a pause; “and was not his appearance at the end of our discourse quite changed from what it seemed at the beginning?--Methought almost that his figure had grown taller, and his frame become endowed with gigantic strength!”--“Ay, indeed,” answered Gabrielle, “he had changed all at once into a powerful, resistless champion, and the tones of his voice were deep and solemn. Notwithstanding his servile attire, one would have looked on him as a man of high rank; though even then how humble would he have seemed in the presence of your noble brother, over whose exploits the Moorish brides are yet lamenting!”--At these words there came a light waving and fluttering of wings over the damsels’ heads, so that they looked up with surprise into the air, and beheld a beautiful falcon, adorned with a golden band round his neck, which was now wheeling in circles about them, and which, after playfully disporting in this manner, at last descended, and, fluttering his wings as if in joy and triumph, seated himself in the lap of the Lady Blanchefleur. “Good Heaven!” she exclaimed, growing pale with terror, “what can this portend?--It is my brother’s favourite falcon; and it is said, that these noble creatures never leave their master, till he is laid in the cold grave, and then they fly through the world, till they find either his nearest of kindred, or some other master valiant and generous as he was whom they have lost.”--“Speak not so frightfully, dearest Blanchefleur,” said her friend, less agitated, though on her features, too, lay the paleness of apprehension;--“what if he now came to you but as a messenger, and with pleasant tidings?--Mark you, how joyous and triumphant are his looks!”--Thereupon they unclasped the golden chain from his neck, and found twisted therein a rose-coloured parchment, on which there was inscribed, in pleasant courtly rhymes, an address from Sir Folko de Montfaucon. With eyes gleaming with delight, they read therein, that the noble chevalier was now in the neighbourhood of the Moor’s castle, disguised as a merchant, but with a train of faithful attendants; that he had sworn to effect their deliverance; and begged that, if his visit were not unwelcome to the ladies, they would appoint a time when he could best come to the garden and speak with them. With a hand trembling with joy, Blanchefleur wrote an answer on the same parchment, appointing that her brother should come to the garden-terrace at sunrise.--“All are now here!” cried she. “My brother, the minstrel Aleard, and the faithful falcon!--It seems to me almost as if we were already at home!”--With these words the parchment was again fixed by the golden chain to the bird’s neck, and he winged his way joyfully into the blue fields of air. Joyfully, too, the damsels went along the meadow, pleasantly illumined by slanting sun-gleams, towards the Moorish palace. CHAPTER XXII.