But Osberne put forth all his swiftness of foot, and was speedily in
his lodging, and came to his treasury and took forth the gold and set
it in a bag, and hastened back again, and found the carle where he had
left him. "Thou art swift-foot indeed," said the carle, "but belike
thou shalt not often again run so fast as thou hast e'en now. But thou
art breathed; wilt thou not sit down a while till thou come round?"
"No," said Osberne shortly, "I will on at once." "Well then," said the
carle with a grin, "suffer me to carry thy bag." "Take it," said
Osberne, and reached it out to him. The carle handled the bag and
said: "Plump are the nobles, lord, if there be but two hundred
herein." "There is more in it," said Osberne, "for there is the gift
for thee. But lead thou on straightway." So the carle led on, and they
went by divers woodland paths for some two hours, and then they heard
the sound of a little water falling. Quoth the carle: "It is down in
this ghyll that my master promised to abide me." And therewith he
began to go down the side of a ghyll well bushed and treed, and
somewhat steep, and Osberne followed him. When they got to the bottom
there was a fair space of flat greensward underneath a little force of
the water; but no man awaited them.
"Where is thy master, good fellow?" said Osberne. "He will scarce be
far," said the carle; "I will call him." And therewith he set two
fingers to his mouth and whistled shrilly.
Now Osberne was all beswinked with his run to and fro the castle and
his two hours' walk thereafter, and he was sore athirst, so he went
down on his knees to drink of the clear little pool beneath the force.
And now, what with the failing day and the tall trees well-nigh
meeting overhead, it was dusk in the ghyll; and moreover as Osberne
drank (and he was in no hurry about it) with his face to the force and
his back to the length of the ghyll, the tinkling and splashing of the
force deafened his ears to any sound but a somewhat big one. So he
drank and thought no evil; but of a sudden he felt a sharp pain in his
left side, and ere he could say that he knew he had been smitten,
another and another, and he rolled over on the greensward and lay
still, and there stood above him three men, the carle-messenger to wit
and another of like sort, and a third clad in white armour.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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