Forsooth she wondered that the stark and gruff old man was so changed
to her in little space; for nought she knew as yet how the sight of her
cast a hot gleed of love into the hearts of them who beheld her.
Now Birdalone arose; but the castellan knelt at her feet, and kissed
her hand again, and again, and yet again. Then he said: Thou art
gracious indeed. But methinks the father here will lead thee
out-a-gates; for he may show thee a lair, wherein thou shalt be safe
enough to-night; and to-morrow may bring new tidings.
So the priest made obeisance to her and led her down the hall, and the
castellan’s eyes were following them till the screen hid them. The
priest left her in the hall-porch a while, and went into the buttery,
and came back with a basket of meat and drink, and they went forth at
the great gate together, and there was the last of the sun before them.
CHAPTER II.
OF BIRDALONE, AND HOW SHE RESTED THE NIGHT THROUGH IN A BOWER WITHOUT
THE CASTLE OF THE QUEST.
On a fair smooth road went they amidst of a goodly meadow-land, wherein
were little copses here and there. When they were fairly out of the
gate, the priest reached for Birdalone’s hand, and she let him take it
and lead her along thereby, thinking no evil; but he might scarce speak
for a while, so great was the stir in his heart at the touch of her
bare flesh. But Birdalone spake and said: Thou art kind, father, to
lead me on my way thus.
He answered in a husky voice with his eyes cast down, and forsooth set
on the feet of her: It is not far that I am leading thee; there is a
broken cot by the copse at the turn of the road yonder, where thou
mayst abide to-night; it is better lodging than none, evil as it is for
such an one as thou. Birdalone laughed: Worse have I had, said she,
than would be the copse without the cot. And she thought withal of the
prison in the Isle of Increase Unsought.
Her voice seemed so cheery and friendly to the priest, that he shook
off somewhat the moodiness of his desire, and looked up and said: I
shall tell thee, lady, that I suppose thou hast more errand with my
lords than to crave lodging of them despite the custom of the castle.
Nay, I have an inkling of what thine errand may be, whereof more anon;
but now shall I tell thee what is best for thee to do so as to have
speech of them the soonest. They have gone forth with some of our lads
to gather venison, or it may be beeves and muttons for our victualling,
and somewhat of battle may they have had on the way, for ill neighbours
have we. But if they come back unfoughten they will be wending this
road, and must needs pass by thy copse-side; and if thou be sleeping
the noise of them will full surely awaken thee. Then all thou hast to
do is to come forth and stand in the way before them, that they may see
thee; and when once they have seen thee, how may they pass thee by
unspoken with?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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