CHAPTER 24
Supper and Slumber in the Woodland Hall
But when all was done to make the wounded knight as easy as might be,the Lady turned to the other twain, and said kindly: "Now, lords, itwere good to get to table, since here is wherewithal." And she lookedon them both full kindly as she spake the words, but nowise wantonly;even as the lady of a fair house might do by honoured guests. So thehearts of both were cheered, and nothing loth they sat down by her onthe grass and fell to meat. Yet was the Knight of the Sun a littlemoody for a while, but when he had eaten and drunken somewhat, he said:"It were well if someone might come hereby, some hermit or holy man, towhom we might give the care of Walter: then might we home to Sunway,and send folk with a litter to fetch him home softly when the due timewere."
"Yea," said the Lady, "that might happen forsooth, and perchance itwill; and if it were before nightfall it were better."
Ralph saw that as she spake she took hold of the two fingers of herleft hand with her right forefinger, and let the thumb meet it, so thatit made a circle about them, and she spake something therewith in a lowvoice, but he heeded it little, save as he did all ways that her bodymoved. As for the Knight of the Sun, he was looking down on the grassas one pondering matters, and noted this not. But he said presently:"What hast thou to say of Walter now? Shall he live?" "Yea," shesaid, "maybe as long as either of you twain." The knight looked hard atRalph, but said nothing, and Ralph heeded not his looks, for his eyeswere busy devouring the Lady.
So they abode a little, and the more part of what talk there was camefrom the Lady, and she was chiefly asking Ralph of his home in Upmeads,and his brethren and kindred, and he told her all openly, and hidnaught, while her voice ravished his very soul from him, and it seemedstrange to him, that such an one should hold him in talk concerningthese simple matters and familiar haps, and look on him so kindly andsimply. Ever and anon would she go and look to the welfare of thewounded man, and come back from him (for they sat a little way aloof),and tell them how he did. And still the Knight of the Sun took littleheed, and once again gloom settled down on him.
Amidst all this the sun was set, and the long water lay beneath theheavens like a sheet of bright, fair-hued metal, and naught stirred it:till at last the Lady leaned forward to Ralph, and touched his shoulder(for he was sitting over against her, with his back to the water), andshe said: "Sir Knight, Sir Knight, his wish is coming about, I believeverily." He turned his head to look over his shoulder, and, as if bychance-hap, his cheek met the outstretched hand she was pointing with:she drew it not away very speedily, and as sweet to him was the touchof it as if his face had been brushed past by a summer lily.
"Nay, look! something cometh," she cried; and he looked and saw alittle boat making down the water toward the end anigh them. Then theKnight of the Sun seemed to awake at her word, and he leapt to hisfeet, and stood looking at the new comer.
It was but a little while ere the boat touched the shore, and a manstepped out of it on to the grass and made it fast to the bank, andthen stood and looked about him as if seeking something; and lo, it wasa holy man, a hermit in the habit of the Blackfriars.
Then the Knight of the Sun hastened down to the strand to meet him, andwhen Ralph was thus left alone with the Lady, though it were but for alittle, his heart beat and he longed sore to touch her with his hand,but durst not, and did but hope that her hand would stray his way as ithad e'en now. But she arose and stood a little way from him, and spaketo him sweetly of the fairness of the evening, and the wounded man, andthe good hap of the friar's coming before nightfall; and his heart waswrung sore with the love of her.
So came the knight up from the strand, and the holy man with him, whogreeted Ralph and the Lady and blessed them, and said: "Now, daughter,show me thy sick man; for I am somewhat of a leech, and this thy baronwould have me heal him, and I have a right good will thereto."
So he went to the Black Knight, and when he had looked to his hurts, heturned to them and said: "Have ye perchance any meat in thewilderness?" "Yea," quoth the Knight of the Sun; "there is enough for aday or more, and if we must needs abide here longer, I or this youngman may well make shift to slay some deer, great or little, for oursustenance and the healing of my friend."
"It is well," said the Friar; "my hermitage is no great way hence, inthe thicket at the end of this water. But now is the fever on thisknight, and we may not move him ere morning at soonest; but to-morrowwe may make a shift to bear him hence by boat: or, if not, then may Igo and fetch from my cell bread and other meat, and milk of my goats;and thus shall we do well till we may bring him to my cell, and thenshall ye leave him there; and afterwards I will lead him home to Sunwaywhere thou dwellest, baron, when he is well enough healed; or, if hewill not go thither, let him go his ways, and I myself will come toSunway and let thee wot of his welfare."
The knight yeasaid all this, and thereafter the Friar and the Ladytogether tended the wounded knight, and gave him water to drink, andwine. And meanwhile Ralph and the Knight of the Sun lay down on thegrass and watched the eve darkening, and Ralph marvelled at hishappiness, and wondered what the morrow would bring forth.
But amidst his happy thoughts the Knight of the Sun spake to him andsaid: "Young knight, I have struck a bargain with her that thou shaltfollow us home, if thou wilt: but to say sooth, I think when thebargain was struck I was minded when I had thee at Sunway to cast theeinto my prison. But now I will do otherwise, and if thou must needsfollow after thine own perdition, as I have, thou shalt do so freely;therefore take again thine armour and weapons, and do what thou wiltwith them. But if thou wilt do after my rede, get thee away to-morrow,or better, to-night, and desire our fellowship no more."
Ralph heard him, and the heart within him was divided. It was in hismind to speak debonnairely to the knight; but again he felt as if hehated him, and the blythe words would not come, and he answereddoggedly: "I will not leave my Lady since she biddeth me go with her.If thou wilt then, make the most of it that thou art stronger than I,and a warrior more proven; set me before thy sword, and fight with meand slay me."
Then rose the wrath to the knight's lips, and he brake forth: "Then isthere one other thing for thee to do, and that is that thou take thysword, which I have just given back to thee, and thrust her throughtherewith. That were better for thee and for me, and for him who liethyonder."
Therewith he arose and strode up and down in the dusk, and Ralphwondered at him, yet hated him now not so much, since he deemed thatthe Lady would not love him, and that he was angered thereby. Yetabout Ralph's heart there hung a certain fear of what should be.
But presently the knight came and sat down by him again, and again fellto speech with him, and said: "Thou knowest that I may not slay thee,and yet thou sayest, fight with me; is this well done?" "Is it illdone?" said Ralph, "I wot not why."
The knight was silent awhile, and then he said: "With what words shallI beseech thee to depart while it is yet time? It may well be that indays to come I shall be good to thee, and help thee."
But Ralph said never a word. Then said the knight, and sighed withal:"I now see this of thee, that thou mayst not depart; well, so let itbe!" and he sighed heavily again. Then Ralph strove with himself, andsaid courteously: "Sir, I am sorry that I am a burden irksome to thee;and that, why I know not, thou mayst not rid thyself of me by thestrong hand, and that otherwise thou mayst not be rid of me. What thenis this woman to thee, that thou wouldst have me slay her, and yet artso fierce in thy love for her?" The Knight of the Sun laughedwrathfully thereat, and was on the point of answering him, when up camethose two from the wounded man, and the Friar said: "The knight shalldo well; but well it is for him that the Lady of Abundance was here forhis helping; for from her hands goeth all healing, as it was with theholy men of old time. May the saints keep her from all harm; for meekand holy indeed she is, as oft we have heard it."
The Lady put her hand on his shoulder, as if to bid him silence, andthen set herself
down on the grass beside the Knight of the Sun, andfell to talking sweetly and blithely to the three men. The Friaranswered her with many words, and told her of the deer and fowl of thewood and the water that he was wont to see nigh to his hermitage; forof such things she asked him, and at last he said: "Good sooth, Ishould be shy to say in all places and before all men of all mydealings with God's creatures which live about me there. Wot ye what?E'en now I had no thought of coming hitherward; but I was sittingamongst the trees pondering many things, when I began to drowse, anddrowsing I heard the thornbushes speaking to me like men, and they bademe take my boat and go up the water to help a man who was in need; andthat is how I came hither; benedicite."
So he spake; but the Knight of the Sun did but put in a word here andthere, and that most often a sour and snappish word. As for Ralph, healso spake but little, and strayed somewhat in his answers; for hecould not but deem that she spake softlier and kinder to him than tothe others; and he was dreamy with love and desire, and scarce knewwhat he was saying.
Thus they wore away some two hours, the Friar or the Lady turning awayat whiles to heed the wounded man, who was now talking wildly in hisfever.
But at last the night was grown as dark as it would be, since cloud andstorm came not, for the moon had sunk down: so the Lady said: "Now,lords, our candle hath gone out, and I for my part will to bed; so letus each find a meet chamber in the woodland hall; and I will lie nearto thee, father, and the wounded friend, lest I be needed to help theein the night; and thou, Baron of Sunway, lie thou betwixt me and thewood, to ward me from the wild deer and the wood-wights. But thou,Swain of Upmeads, wilt thou deem it hard to lie anear the horses, towatch them if they be scared by aught?"
"Yea," said the Knight of the Sun, "thou art Lady here forsooth; evenas men say of thee, that thou swayest man and beast in the wildwood.But this time at least it is not so ill-marshalled of thee: I myselfwould have shown folk to chamber here in likewise."
Therewith he rose up, and walked to and fro for a little, and thenwent, and sat down on a root of the oak-tree, clasping his knees withhis hands, but lay not down awhile. But the Lady made herself a bed ofthe bracken which was over from those that Ralph had gathered for thebed of the wounded Knight; and the Friar lay down on the grass nigh toher, and both were presently asleep.
Then Ralph got up quietly; and, shamefacedly for very love, passedclose beside the sleeping woman as he went to his place by the horses,taking his weapons and wargear with him: and he said to himself as helaid him down, that it was good for him to be quite alone, that hemight lie awake and think at his ease of all the loveliness andkindness of his Lady. Howbeit, he was a young man, and a sturdy, usedto lying abroad in the fields or the woods, and it was his custom tosleep at once and sweetly when he lay down after the day's work hadwearied him, and even so he did now, and was troubled by no dreams ofwhat was past or to come.
BOOK TWO
The Road Unto Trouble