When she had gone a league or so she sat down under a tree and made a meal from the stuff in her wallet. Country folk went by on the road, for it was market-day in Winchester. One apple-cheeked lad seeing a nun sitting there came devoutly with his palms full of fruit taken from his ass's pannier, and made his offering with a shy smile and a bend of the knee. Igraine, touched, blessed him most piously, and gave him a kiss to cap it. The lad blushed and went away thinking he had never seen such a pretty nun before, and wondering if there were many like her in the great abbey. Igraine watched him towards Winchester, and wished some country girl joy of a good husband. Presently she held on again in great spirits, nor had she gone very far when a tinkling of bells came up behind her with a merry clatter of hoofs. Turning aside to give passage, she looked back and saw an old gentleman riding comfortably on a white mule with two servants jogging along behind him on cobs. The old man's bridle was fringed with little silver bells that made a thin jingle as he rode; he was solidly gowned in plum-coloured cloth turned over with sable, and seemed of comfortable degree, judging by his trappings. Igraine looked up in his face as he passed by, while the old gentleman stared down to see what sort of womanhood lurked under a nun's hood. The man on the mule was Eudol, Radamanth's bosom gossip. "Hey now, on my soul," said the little merchant, reining in with a will; "what have we here, my dear, gadding about nunwise on a high-road? My faith, I must hold a catechism." Igraine, knowing the old man's vulnerability, answered with a smile. "Ah, Master Eudol, you are a very lady's man, a gem of discretion." "So, and truth," said the merchant, with a chuckle. Igraine went close to him and patted the white mule's neck, while the serving men held at a wise distance. "I am running away from Winchester," she said. "Strange sport, my dear." "Now you must not tell a soul, on your honour." "Not a living soul, on my honour." Igraine let her eyes flit a laughing look up at him. "Why then, Master Eudol," she said, "if you will order one of your men to walk, I will get up and ride along with you for a league or two. There is trust for you." Eudol appeared entranced with the suggestion. He ordered one of his fellows to dismount, to spread a cloak over the saddle, to shorten a stirrup leather and give Igraine his knee. The girl was soon mounted, seated side fashion with one sandalled foot in the stirrup and one hand on the pommel to steady her. She flanked Eudol's white mule, and they rode on side by side at a level tramp, with the henchmen some twenty paces in the rear.