"Richard!" a firm and musical voice called from outside; and then again, "Richard!" "Wait. 'Tis the maid herself," said the young knight, going obediently to the door. "My dearest friend on earth is in that hut, Isabel," he said, stepping to the side of her palfrey; "and sick well nigh to death. 'Twill be my duty and pleasure to remain by his side. When I have nursed him back to health, I shall be free. Until then, you must consent to await me in Castle Yewe. 'Tis not far, Isabel. But over the hills, there. You'll do this thing for me?" "And a right pretty nurse you'd make," observed Isabel breezily, slipping at once from off the round back of her palfrey. "Why, Richard, my generous boy," said she, "you have sore trouble in looking after your own tangled affairs. An he be your friend, right gladly will I attend to the nursing of him myself. Happily, some experience have I had of such matters." Then, in her usual masterful way, she bade the foot-boys strip the bags off her horse and started for the hut door. With more of admiration for the maid than Sir Richard had felt since their meeting, he followed her brisk steps through the door. After that there was nothing left for him to do but run upon errands. It would be--"Richard, do you do so?" and "Richard, do you do thus?" "Richard, ride you to the nearest goodwife and fetch me a gourd of goat's milk," or a measure of stum, or whatever other toothsome thing it chanced to be. Sir Richard was soon thinking that his friend's lean body must have grown to be a receptacle for all of the dainties from the multitude of hills about them. Almost every hour of the day he might have been seen careering over their round summits. The clever foot-boys made over the lean-to into a quite habitable dwelling, thatching its sides and top with dried grass from off the meadow. Within its shelter Sir Richard and Harold and Thomas ate, slept, and loitered away the time. There was a quaint old Scots herdsman who used often to visit them, bringing with him upon every such occasion his bagpipes, whereupon he could play with an uncommon deftness. It was this same simple, good-hearted herdsman who had looked in on de Claverlok twice or three times every day while the warrior was alone during the interval of his sickness. Sir Richard tried in many ways to make him the richer, or rather the less poor, because of the timely succor he had brought his friend, but the old herdsman would have none of the young knight's nobles.