His eyes looked fiercely on her as he spake, holding out his palm with the ring lying thereon. But the wood-wife answered: Many questions, fair youth! but I will tell thee: the play is for thine healing and pleasure, whereas both sick hast thou been and sorry. As to the ring, it is thou hast got it and not I. But I will tell thee this, that I have seen it on the finger of a fair damsel who haunteth the woodland not far hence. As to what I am, that were a long tale to tell if I told it all; but believe this meanwhile, that I am the lady and mistress of hereabouts, and am not without power over my folk and my land. And as to why thou wert brought hither, I brought thee because I had no better house handy for a sick man to lie in. Then Arthur stood a long while considering the ring that lay on his palm, and at last he put his hand on the wood-wife’s shoulder, and looked into her face beseechingly, and said: O mother, if thou be mighty be merciful withal, and have pity on me! Thou callest me a youth, and so I may be in regard to thee; but I tell thee it is five long years and there hath been no other thought in my heart but what was loathsome to me, and it hath worn and wasted my youth, so that it waneth and withereth and is nought. O, if thou be mighty, bring me to her that I may see her at least one time before I die. And therewith he fell down on his knees before her, and kissed the hem of her gown, and wept. But she drew him up and looked on him with the merry countenance of a kind old woman, and said: Nay, nay, I am not so hard to be won to thy helping that thou needest pray so sore and weep: here need we tarry no longer, and if thou wilt come with me we shall go seek the damsel who bore this ring, though how it should come to thee why should I know? Neither do I know if the said ring-bearer be the one woman whom thou needest. But I will tell thee at once that she is a dear friend of mine. Then Arthur threw his arms about her, and kissed her cheeks and blessed her, while she laughed on him and said: Nay, fair sir, if thou wilt do so much with the withered branch, what wilt thou with the blossom of the tree? And he was abashed before her, but hope made his heart to dance. So the wood-wife took up her bow, slung her quiver at her back, and girt her short sword to her, and then led him forth, and so into the thicket out of the dale and forth into the oaken bent, and lightly she led him thereafter through the woodland. CHAPTER XXVI. THE BLACK SQUIRE TELLETH THE WOOD-WIFE OF HIS DOINGS SINCE BIRDALONE WENT FROM THE CASTLE OF THE QUEST.