Thither the wood-wife brought the twain; and when they all stood together on the brook-side, she said to them: Dear friends, this is your woodland house for this time, and I rede you go not forth of it, lest ye happen upon any of those evil men; for nought have ye to fear from any save them. Here amidst these big stones, which make, see ye, as it were a cavern, have I stowed victual for you; and armour therewithal, because, though both of you are in a manner armed, yet who knoweth where a shaft drawn at a venture may reach. And from the said stones she drew forth two very fair armours, helm and hauberk, and leg and arm wards; and they were all of green, and shone but little, but were fashioned as no smith of man-folk could have done the like. This is thine, Sir Arthur, said the wood-wife, and thou wilt wear it like as it were silk; and this thine, my child, and thou art strong enough to bear such light gear. And I charge you both to do on this gear presently, nor do it off till ye have achieved the adventure. And now this is the last word: here is a horn of oliphant which thou shalt wear about thy neck, Birdalone; and if thou be sore bestead, or thy heart faileth thee, blow in it, yet not before the onfall; and then, whether thou blow much or little, thou shalt be well holpen. Now be not downcast if nought befall to-night or to-morrow, or even the day after; but if the third day be tidingless, then at sunset burn a hair of my head, Birdalone, and I will come to you. And now farewell! for I have yet to do in this matter. With that she kissed Birdalone fondly and embraced Arthur, and went her way; and those twain abode in the dale, and slept and watched by turns, and all was tidingless till the morrow’s dawn; neither was there aught to tell of on that day and the night that ended it. CHAPTER XXXII. OF THE FIGHT IN THE FOREST AND THE RESCUE OF THOSE FRIENDS FROM THE MEN OF THE RED COMPANY. Light was growing on the dawn of the next day, and the colours of things could be seen, when Birdalone, who was holding this last watch of the night, stood still and hearkened, deeming that she could hear some noise that was neither the morning wind in the tree-boughs nor the going of the wild things anear them in the wood. So she did off her helm to hear the better, and stood thus a little; then she turned about and stooped down to Arthur, who was yet sleeping, and put forth a hand to rouse him. But or ever she touched him, broke forth a sound of big and rough voices and laughter, and amidst it two shrieks as of women. Arthur heard it, and was on his feet in a moment, and helmed, and he caught up his bended bow and cast on the quiver (for Birdalone was already weaponed), and without more words they went forth swiftly up the bank and through the thicket till they were looking on the half-blind way, but under cover, and there was nothing before them as yet.