Then to the lords and all the people he seemed so fair and fearless andkind that they gave a great shout of welcome; and Goldilind came forthfrom her chair, as fair as a June lily, and came to Christopher andreached out her hand to him, but he refrained him a moment, so that allthey could see how sweet and lovely a hand it was, and then he took it,and drew her to him, and kissed her mouth before them all; and still heheld her hand, till the Abbot of Meadhamstead aforetold came and stoodby them and blessed them.
Then spake the Earl again: "Lo ye, here hath been due betrothal of thesetwain, and ye may see how meet they be for each other in goodlinessand kindness. Now there lacketh nought but they should be weddedstraightway; and all is arrayed in the chapel; wherefore if this holyman will come with us and do on his mass-hackle, our joy shall befulfilled; save that thereafter shall feast and merriment await all youin this hall, and we shall be there to welcome all comers in this houseof Greenharbour, whereas this our gracious Lady has long abided sohappily."
Man looked on man here and there, and smiled a little as he spake, butnone said aught, for there were none save the Earl's servants there, anda sort of poor wretches.
So therewithal they went their ways to the chapel where was the weddingdone as grandly as might be, considering they were in no grander placethan Greenharbour. And when all was done, and folk began to flow awayfrom the chapel, and Goldilind sat shamefaced but strangely happy ina great stall of the choir, the Earl called Christopher unto him, andsaid: "My lad, I deem that some great fortune shall betide thee sincealready thou hast begun so luckily. But I beseech thee mar not thyfortune by coming back with thy fair wife to the land of Meadham; orelse it may be thou shalt cast thy life away, and that will bring hersorrow, as I can see well."
He spake this grimly, though he smiled as he spake. But he went on moregently: "I will not send you twain away empty-handed; when ye go outa-gates into the wide world, ye shall find two fair horses for yourriding, well bedight, and one with a woman's saddle; and, moreover,a sumpter beast, not very lightly burdened, for on one side of him hebeareth achest wherein is, first of all, the raiment of my Lady, andbeneath it some deal of silver and gold and gems; but on the otherside is victual and drink for the way for you, and raiment for thee,youngling. How sayest thou, is it well?"
"It is well, Lord," said Christopher; "yet would I have with me theraiment wherewith I came hither, and my bow and my sax."
"Yea and wherefore, carle?" said Earl Geoffrey.
Said the youngling: "We be going to ride the wild-wood, and it might bebetter for safety's sake that I be so clad as certain folk look to seemen ride there."
But he reddened as he spake; and the Earl said: "By Allhallows! but itis not ill thought of; and, belike, the same-like kind of attire mightbe better to hide the queenship of the Lady from the wood-folk than thatwhich now she weareth?"
"True is that, Lord," quoth Christopher.
"Yet," said the Earl, "I will have you go forth from the Castle clad inyour lordly weed, lest folk of mine say that I have stripped my Lady andcast her forth: don ye your poor raiment when in the wood ye be."
Therewith he called to a squire, and bade him seek out that poor raimentof the new-wedded youngling, and bow withal and shafts good store, anddo all on the sumpter; and, furthermore, he bade him tell one of myLady's women to set on the sumpter some of Goldilind's old and usedraiment. So the squire did the Earl's will, and both got Christopher'sgear and also found Aloyse and gave her the Earl's word.
She smiled thereat, and went straightway and fetched the very sameraiment, green gown and all, which she had brought to Goldilindin prison that other day, and in which Goldilind had fled fromGreenharbour. And when she had done them in the chest above all theother gear, she stood yet beside the horses amidst of the varlets andsquires who were gathered there to see the new-wedded folk depart.
Presently then came forth through the gate those two, hand in hand, andEarl Geoffrey with them. And he set Goldilind on her horse himself, andknelt before her to say farewell, and therewith was Christopher on hishorse, and him the Earl saluted debonairly.
But just as they were about shaking their reins to depart, Aloyse felldown on her knees before the Earl, who said: "What is toward, woman?"
"A grace, my Lord, a grace," said she.
"Stand up on thy feet," said the Earl, "and ye, my masters, draw out ofearshot."
Even so did they; and the Earl bade her speak, and she said: "Lord, myLady is going away from Greenharbour, and anon thou wilt be going, andI shall be left with the sleek she-devil yonder that thou hast set overus, and here there will be hell for me without escape, now that my Ladyis gone. Wherefore I pray thee take me with thee to Meadhamstead, evenif it be to prison; for here I shall die the worst of deaths."
Earl Geoffrey smiled on her sourly, and said: "If it be as I understand,that thou hast lifted thine hand against my Lady, wert thou wendingwith me, thou shouldst go just so far as the first tree. Thou mayst deemthyself lucky if I leave thee behind here. Nor needest thou troublethee concerning Dame Elinor; little more shalt thou hear of herhenceforward."
But Goldilind spake and said: "My Lord Earl, I would ask grace for thisone; for what she did to me she did compelled, and not of her free will,and I forgive it her. And moreover, this last time she suffered in herbody for the helping of me; so if thou mightest do her asking I were thebetter pleased."
"It shall be as thou wilt, my Lady," said the Earl, "and I will have herwith me and keep her quiet in Meadhamstead; but, by Allhallows! had itnot been for thy word we would have had her whipped into the wild-wood,and hanged up on to a tree thereafter."
Then Aloyse knelt before Goldilind and kissed her feet, and wept, anddrew back pale and trembling. But Goldilind shook her rein once forall now, and her apple-grey horse went forth with her; Christopher cameafter, leading the sumpter beast, and forth they went, and passed overthe open green about the Castle, and came on to the woodland way wherebyGoldilind had fled that other time.
CHAPTER XXII. OF THE WOODLAND BRIDE-CHAMBER.
They rode in silence a good way, and it was some three hours after noon,and the day as fair and bright as might be. Christopher held his peacefor sweet shame that he was alone with a most fair maid, and she hisown, and without defence against him. But she amidst of her silenceturned, now red, and now somewhat pale, and now and again she lookedsomewhat askance on him, and he deemed her looks were no kinder thanthey should be.
At last she spake, yet not looking on him, and said: "So, Forester,now is done what I must needs do: thy life is saved, and I am quit ofGreenharbour, and its prison, and its torments: whither away then?"
Quoth he, all dismayed, for her voice was the voice of anger: "I wotnot whither, save to the house thou hast blessed already with thy dearbody."
At that word she turned quite pale, and trembled, and spake not for awhile, and smote her horse and hastened on the way, and he after her;but when he was come up with her again, then she said, still notlooking at him: "A house of woodmen and wolf-heads. Is that a meetdwelling-place for me? Didst thou hear men at Greenharbour say that I ama Queen?"
"Hear them I did," quoth he; "but meseemeth nought like a Queen had theydone with thee."
She said: "And dost thou mock me with that? thou?" And she burst outweeping. He answered not, for sore grief smote him, remembering her handin his but a little while ago. And again she hurried on, and he followedher.
When he came up with her she said: "And thou, didst thou woo me as aQueen?"
"Lady," he said, "I wooed thee not at all; I was given to thee, would I,would I not: great joy was that to me."
Then said she: "Thou sayest sooth, thou hast not wooed me, but takenme." She laughed therewith, as one in bitterness. But presently sheturned to him, and he wondered, for in her face was longing and kindnessnought like to her words. But he durst not speak to her lest he shouldanger her, and she turned her face from him again: and she said: "Wertthou given to me? meseems I was given to thee, would I, would I no
t; theQueen to the Churl, the Wood-man, the Wolf-head." And again she rode on,and he followed, sick at heart and wondering sorely.
When they were riding together again, they spake not to each other,though she stole glances at him to see how he fared; but he rode on withknit brows and a stern countenance. So in a while she began to speak tohim again, but as if there were nought but courtesy between them, andneither love nor hatred. She fell to asking him of woodland matters,concerning bird and beast and things creeping; and at first he wouldscarce answer her at all, and then were his answers short; but at last,despite of all, he began to forget both grief and anger, so much thesweetness of her speech wound about his heart; and, withal, she fell toasking him of his fellows and their life in the woods, and of Jack ofthe Tofts and the like; and now he answered her questions fully, andwhiles she laughed at his words, and he laughed also; and all pleasurehad there been of this converse, if he had not beheld her from time totime and longed for the fairness of her body, and feared her wrath athis longing.
So wore the day, and the sun was getting low, and they were come toanother woodland pool which was fed by a clear-running little brook,and up from it went a low bank of greensward exceeding sweet, andbeyond that oak trees wide-branched and great, and still fair greenswardbeneath them and hazel-thicket beyond them. There, then, Goldilindreined up, and looked about her, but Christopher looked on her andnought else. But she said: "Let to-morrow bring counsel; but now am Iweary to-night, and if we are not to ride night-long, we shall belikefind no better place to rest in. Wilt thou keep watch while I sleep?"
"Yea," he said, bowing his head to her soberly; and therewith he gotoff his horse, and would have helped her down from hers, but she slippedlightly down and stood before him face to face, and they were very nighto each other, she standing close to her horse. Her face was pale tohis deeming and there was a piteous look in her eyes, so that he yearnedtowards her in his bowels, and reached his hand toward her; but sheshrank aback, leaning against her horse, and said in a trembling voice,looking full at him, and growing yet paler: "Forester, dost thou thinkit seemly that thou shouldst ride with us, thou such as thou hast toldthyself to be, in this lordly raiment, which they gave thee yonder aspart of the price for thy leading us away into the wild-wood?"
"Lady," said he, "whether it be seemly or not, I see that it is thy willthat I should go clad as a woodland churl; abide a little, and thy willshall be done."
Therewith he did off the burden from the sumpter horse, and set thechests on the earth; then he took her horse gently, and led him withthe other two in under the oak trees, and there he tethered them so thatthey could bite the grass; and came back thereafter, and took his oldraiment out of the chest, and said: "What thou wilt have me do, Iwill do now; and this all the more as to-morrow I should have done itunbidden, and should have prayed thee to do on garments less gloriousthan now thou bearest; so that we may look the less strange in thewoodland if we chance to fall in with any man."
Nought she answered as he turned toward the hazel copse; she had beenfollowing him with her eyes while he was about that business, and whenhis back was turned, she stood a moment till her bosom fell a-heaving,and she wept; then she turned her about to the chest wherein was herraiment, and went hastily and did off her glorious array, and did on thegreen gown wherewith she had fled, and left her feet bare withal.Then she looked up and saw Christopher, how he was coming from out thehazel-thicket new clad in his old raiment, and she cried out aloud, andran toward him. But he doubted that some evil had betid, and that shewas chased; so he drew out his sword; but she ran up to him and criedout: "Put up thy sword, here is none save me."
But he stood still, gazing on her in wonderment, and now she was drawnnear to him she stood still before him, panting. Then he said: "Nay,Lady, for this night there was no need of thy disguising thee, to-morrowit had been soon enough."
She said: "I were fain if thou wouldst take my hand, and lead me back toour resting-place."
Even so he did, and as their palms met he felt how her hand loved him,and a flood of sweetness swept over his heart, and made an end of allits soreness. But he led her quietly back again to their place. Then sheturned to him and said: "Now art thou the woodland god again, and thecourtier no more; so now will I worship thee." And she knelt down beforehim, and embraced his knees and kissed them; but he drew her up to him,and cast his arms about her, and kissed her face many times, and said:"Now art thou the poor captive again."
She said: "Now hast thou forgiven me; but I will tell thee that mywilfulness and folly was not all utterly feigned; though when I wasabout it I longed for thee to break it down with the fierceness of aman, and bid me look to it how helpless I was, and thou how strong andmy only defence. Not utterly feigned it was: for I will say it, thatI was grieved to the heart when I bethought me of Meadhamstead and theseat of my fathers. What sayest thou then? Shalt thou be ever a woodmanin these thickets, and a follower of Jack of the Tofts? If so thou wilt,it is well."
He took her by the shoulders and bent her backwards to kiss her, andheld her up above the earth in his arms, waving her this way and that,till she felt how little and light she was in his grasp, though she wasno puny woman; then he set her on her feet again, and laughed in herface, and said: "Sweetling, let to-morrow bring counsel. But now let itall be: thou hast said it, thou art weary; so now will I dight thee abed of our mantles, and thou shalt lie thee down, and I shall watch theeas thou badest me."
Therewith he went about, and plucked armfuls of the young bracken, andmade a bed wide and soft, and spread the mantles thereover.
But she stood awhile looking on him; then she said: "Dost thou thinkto punish me for my wilful folly, and to shame me by making me speak tothee?"
"Nay," he said, "it is not so."
She said: "I am not shamed in that I say to thee: if thou watch thisnight, I will watch by thee; and if I lie down to rest this night, thoushalt lie by me. For my foemen have given me to thee, and now shalt thougive thyself to me."
So he drew near to her shyly, like unto one who hath been forgiven. Andthere was their bridal bed, and nought but the oak boughs betwixt themand the bare heavens.
CHAPTER XXIII. THEY FALL IN WITH FRIENDS.
Now awoke Goldilind when the morning was young and fresh, and she drewthe mantle up over her shoulders; and as she did so, but half awake, shedeemed she heard other sounds than the singing of the black-birds andthrostles about the edge of the thicket, and she turned her eyes towardthe oak trees and the hazel-thicket, and saw at once three of mankindcoming on foot over the greensward toward her. She was afraid, so thatshe durst not put out a hand to awaken Christopher, but sat gazing onthose three as they came toward her; she saw that two were tall men,clad much as Christopher; but presently she saw that there was a womanwith them, and she took heart somewhat thereat; and she noted that oneof the men was short-haired and dark-haired, and the other had long redhair falling about his shoulders; and as she put out her hand and laidit on Christopher's shoulder, the red-haired one looked toward her amoment under the sharp of his hand (for the sun was on their side),and then set off running, giving out a great whoop therewithal. Eventherewith leapt up Christopher, still half awake, and the red-haired manran right up to him, and caught him by the shoulders, and kissed him onboth cheeks; so that Goldilind saw that these were the fellows whereofChristopher had told, and she stood there shame-fast and smiling.
Presently came up the others, to wit, Gilbert and Joanna, and they alsokissed and embraced Christopher, and all they were as full of joy asmight be. Then came Joanna to Goldilind, and said: "I wot not who thismay be, brother, yet meseems she will be someone who is dear to thee,wherefore is she my sister." And therewith she kissed Goldilind; and shewas kind, and sweet of flesh, and goodly of body, and Goldilind rejoicedin her.
Joanna made much of her, and said to her: "Here is to do, whereas twomen have broken into a lady's chamber; come, sister, let us to thethicket, and I will be thy tiring-maid, and while these others telltheir ta
les we shall tell ours." And she took her hand and they wentinto the hazels; but the two new-come men seemed to find it hard to keeptheir eyes off Goldilind, till the hazels had hidden her.
Then turned David to Christopher, and said: "Thy pardon, little King,that we have waked thee so early; but we wotted not that thou hadst beenamongst the wood-women; and, sooth to say, my lad, we had little easetill we found thee, after we came home and saw all those hoof-marksyonder."
"Yea," said Gilbert, "if we had lost thee we had been finely holpen up,for we could neither have gone back to the Tofts nor into the kingdom:for I think my father would have hanged us if we had come back with a'By the way, Christopher is slain.' But tell us, lad, what hath befallenthee with yonder sweetling?"
"Yea, tell us," said David, "and sit down here betwixt us, with thy backto the hazel-thicket, or we shall get no tale out of thee--tush, man,Joanna will bring her back, and that right soon, I hope."
Christopher laughed, and sat down between them, and told all how ithad gone with him, and of Goldilind, who she was. The others hearkenedheedfully, and Gilbert said: "With all thou hast told us, brother, itis clear we shall find it hard to dwell in Littledale; so soon as thyloveling hath rested her at our house, we must go our ways to the Tofts,and take counsel of our father."