The Well at the World's End: A Tale

  CHAPTER 15

  A Strange Meeting in the Wilderness

  On the morrow betimes they got to the road again; the country at first,though it was scanty of tillage, was not unfurnished of sheep, beingfor the most part of swelling hills and downs well grassed, with hereand there a deep cleft in them. They saw but few houses, and thosesmall and poor. A few shepherds they fell in with, who were short ofspeech, after the manner of such men, but deemed a greeting not whollythrown away on such goodly folk as those wayfarers.

  So they rode till it was noon, and Richard talked more than his wontwas, though his daily use it was to be of many words: nor did the Sagespare speech; but Ursula spoke little, nor heeded much what the otherssaid, and Ralph deemed that she was paler than of wont, and her browswere knitted as if she were somewhat anxious. As for him, he was graveand calm, but of few words; and whiles when Richard was wordiest helooked on him steadily for a moment whereat Richard changedcountenance, and for a while stinted his speech, but not for long;while Ralph looked about him, inwardly striving to gather together theends of unhappy thoughts that floated about him, and to note the landhe was passing through, if indeed he had verily seen it aforetime,elsewhere than in some evil dream.

  At last when they stopped to bait by some scrubby bushes at the foot ofa wide hill-side, he took Richard apart, and said to him: "Old friend,and whither go we?" Said Richard: "As thou wottest, to the Burg of theFour Friths." "Yea," said Ralph, "but by what road?" Said Richard:"Youngling is not thine heart, then, as strong as thou deemedst lastnight?" Ralph was silent a while, and then he said: "I know what thouwouldst say; we are going by the shortest road to the Castle ofAbundance."

  He spake this out loud, but Richard nodded his head to him, as if hewould say: "Yea, so it is; but hold thy peace." But Ralph knew thatUrsula had come up behind him, and, still looking at Richard, he puthis open hand aback toward her, and her hand fell into it. Then heturned about to her, and saw that her face was verily pale; so he puthis hands on her shoulders and kissed her kindly; and she let her headfall on to his bosom and fell a-weeping, and the two elders turned awayto the horses, and feigned to be busy with them.

  Thus then they bided some minutes of time, and then all gat to horseagain, and Ursula's face was cleared of the grief of fear, and thecolour had come back to her cheeks and lips. But Ralph's face wasstern and sorrowful to behold; howbeit, as they rode away he spake in aloud and seeming cheerful voice: "Still ever shorteneth more and morethe way unto my Fathers' House: and withal I am wishful to see if it beindeed true that the men of the Burg have become mild and peaceful; andto know what hath befallen those doughty champions of the Dry Tree; andif perchance they have any will to hold us a tilting in courteousfashion."

  Richard smiled on him, and said: "Thou holdest more then by the DryTree than by the Burg; though while agone we deemed the Champions worsemen to meet in the wood than the Burgers."

  "So it is," said Ralph; "but men are oft mis-said by them that knowthem not thoroughly: and now, if it were a good wish, O Sage ofSwevenham, I were fain to fall in with the best of all those champions,a tall man and a proper, who, meseems, had good-will toward me, I knownot why."

  Quoth the Sage: "If thou canst not see the end of this wish fulfilled,no more can I. And yet, meseems something may follow it which is akinto grief: be content with things so done, my son."

  Now Ralph holds his peace, and they speed on their way, Ursula ridingclose by Ralph's side, and caressing him with looks, and by touch alsowhen she might; and after a while he fell to talking again, and ever inthe same loud, cheerful voice. Till at last, in about another hour,they came in sight of the stream which ran down toward the SwellingFlood from that pool wherein erst the Lady of Abundance had bathed herbefore the murder. Hard looked Ralph on the stream, but howsoever hisheart might ache with the memory of that passed grief, like as the bodyaches with the bruise of yesterday's blow, yet he changed countenancebut little, and in his voice was the same cheery sound. But Ursulanoted him, and how his eyes wandered, and how little he heeded thewords of the others, and she knew what ailed him, for long ago he hadtold her all that tale, and so now her heart was troubled, and shelooked on him and was silent.

  Thus, then, a little before sunset, they came on that steep cliff withthe cave therein, and the little green plain thereunder, and the rockybank going down sheer into the water of the stream. Forsooth they cameon it somewhat suddenly from out of the bushes of the valley; and thereindeed not only the Sage and Richard, but Ursula also, were stayed bythe sight as folk compelled; for all three knew what had befallenthere. But Ralph, though he looked over his shoulder at it all, yetrode on steadily, and when he saw that the others lingered, he wavedhis hand and cried out as he rode: "On, friends, on! for the roadshortens towards my Fathers' House." Then were they ashamed, and shooktheir reins to hasten after him.

  But in that very nick of time there came forth one from amidst thebushes that edged the pool of the stream and strode dripping on to theshallow; a man brown and hairy, and naked, save for a green wreathabout his middle. Tall he was above the stature of most men; awful ofaspect, and his eyes glittered from his dark brown face amidst of hisshockhead of the colour of rain-spoilt hay. He stood and looked whileone might count five, and then without a word or cry rushed up from thewater, straight on Ursula, who was riding first of the three lingerers,and in the twinkling of an eye tore her from off her horse; and she wasin his grasp as the cushat in the claws of the kite. Then he cast herto earth, and stood over her, shaking a great club, but or ever hebrought it down he turned his head over his shoulder toward the cliffand the cave therein, and in that same moment first one blade and thenanother flashed about him, and he fell crashing down upon his back,smitten in the breast and the side by Richard and Ralph; and the woundswere deep and deadly.

  Ralph heeded him no more, but drew Ursula away from him, and raised herup and laid her head upon his knee; and she had not quite swooned away,and forsooth had taken but little hurt; only she was dizzy with terrorand the heaving up and casting down.

  She looked up into Ralph's face, and smiled on him and said: "What hathbeen done to me, and why did he do it?"

  His eyes were still wild with fear and wrath, as he answered: "OBeloved, Death and the foeman of old came forth from the cavern of thecliff. What did they there, Lord God? and he caught thee to slay thee;but him have I slain. Nevertheless, it is a terrible and evil place:let us go hence."

  "Yea," she said, "let us go speedily!" Then she stood up, weak andtottering still, and Ralph arose and put his left arm about her to stayher; and lo, there before them was Richard kneeling over the wild-man,and the Sage was coming back from the river with his headpiece full ofwater; so Ralph cried out: "To horse, Richard, to horse! Hast thounot done slaying the woodman?"

  But therewith came a weak and hoarse voice from the earth, and thewild-man spake. "Child of Upmeads, drive not on so hard: it will notbe long. For thou and Richard the Red are naught lighthanded."

  Ralph marvelled that the wild-man knew him and Richard, but thewild-man spake again: "Hearken, thou lover, thou young man!"

  But therewith was the Sage come to him and kneeling beside him with thewater, and he drank thereof, while Ralph said to him: "What is thiswoodman? and canst thou speak my Latin? What art thou?"

  Then the wild-man when he had drunk raised him up a little, and said:"Young man, thou and Richard are deft leeches; ye have let me blood toa purpose, and have brought back to me my wits, which were wanderingwide. Yet am I indeed where my fool's brains told me I was."

  Then he lay back again, and turned his head as well as he could towardthe cavern in the cliff. But Ralph deemed he had heard his voicebefore, and his heart was softened toward him, he knew not why; but hesaid: "Yea, but wherefore didst thou fall upon the Lady?" The wild-manstrove with his weakness, and said angrily: "What did another womanthere?" Then he said in a calmer but weaker voice: "Nay, my wits shallwander no more from me; we will make the jour
ney together, I and mywits. But O, young man, this I will say if I can. Thou fleddest fromher and forgattest her. I came to her and forgat all but her; yea, myvery life I forgat."

  Again he spoke, and his voice was weaker yet: "Kneel down by me, or Imay not tell thee what I would; my voice dieth before me."

  Then Ralph knelt down by him, for he began to have a deeming of what hewas, and he put his face close to the dying man's, and said to him; "Iam here, what wouldst thou?"

  Said the wild-man very feebly: "I did not much for thee time was; howmight I, when I loved her so sorely? But I did a little. Believe it,and do so much for me that I may lie by her side when I am dead, whonever lay by her living. For into the cave I durst go never."

  Then Ralph knew him, that he was the tall champion whom he had metfirst at the churchyard gate of Netherton; so he said: "I know theenow, and I will promise to do thy will herein. I am sorry that I haveslain thee; forgive it me."

  A mocking smile came into the dying man's eyes, and he spakewhispering: "Richard it was; not thou."

  The smile spread over his face, he strove to turn more toward Ralph,and said in a very faint whisper: "The last time!"

  No more he said, but gave up the ghost presently. The Sage rose upfrom his side and said: "Ye may now bury this man as he craved ofthee, for he is dead. Thus hath thy wish been accomplished; for thiswas the great champion and duke of the men of the Dry Tree. Indeed itis a pity of him that he is dead, for as terrible as he was to hisfoes, he was no ill man."

  Spake Richard: "Now is the riddle areded of the wild-man and themighty giant that haunted these passes. We have played together ornow, in days long past, he and I; and ever he came to his above. Hewas a wise man and a prudent that he should have become a wild-man. Itis great pity of him."

  But Ralph took his knight's cloak of red scarlet, and they lapped thewild-man therein, who had once been a champion beworshipped. But firstUrsula sheared his hair and his beard, till the face of him came backagain, grave, and somewhat mocking, as Ralph remembered it, time was.Then they bore him in the four corners across the stream, and up on tothe lawn before the cliff; and Richard and the Sage bore him into thecave, and laid him down there beside the howe which Ralph had erewhileheaped over the Lady; and now over him also they heaped stones.

  Meanwhile Ursula knelt at the mouth of the cave and wept; but Ralphturned him about and stood on the edge of the bank, and looked over theripple of the stream on to the valley, where the moon was now beginningto cast shadows, till those two came out of the cave for the last time.Then Ralph turned to Ursula and raised her up and kissed her, and theywent down all of them from that place of death and ill-hap, and gat tohorse on the other side of the stream, and rode three miles further onby the glimmer of the moon, and lay down to rest amongst the bushes ofthe waste, with few words spoken between them.