LITMIR.BIZ

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that ye lead us back to Greenharbour; but as for this youth, that ye do him no hurt, but let him go free, according to thy word spoken e'en now, Sir Burgreve."

      She spake slowly and heavily, as one who hath a lesson to say, and it was to be seen of her that all grief was in her heart, though her words were queenly. Some of them that heard laughed; but the Burgreve spake, and said: "Lady, we will do thy will in part, for we will lead thee to Greenharbour in all honour; but as to this young man, if he will not be slain here and now, needs must he with us. For he hath slain two of our men outright, and hath hurt many, and, methinks, the devil of the woods is in his body. So do thou bid him be quiet, if thou wouldst not see his blood flow."

      She turned a pale unhappy face on Christopher, and said: "My friend, we bid thee withstand them no more, but let them do with thee as they will."

      Christopher stood aside therewith, and sat down on a bench and laughed, and said in a high voice: "Stout men-at-arms, forsooth, to take a maid's kirtle to their shield."

      But therewith the armed men poured into the hall, and a half dozen of the stoutest came up unto Christopher where he sat, and bound his hands with their girdles, and he withstood them no whit, but sat laughing in their faces, and made as if it were all a Yule-tide game. But inwardly his heart burned with anger, and with love of that sweet Lady.

      Then they made him stand up, and led him without the house, and set him on a horse, and linked his feet together under the belly thereof. And when that was done he saw them lead out the Lady, and they set her in a horse litter, and then the whole troop rode off together, with two men riding on either side of the said litter. In this wise they left Littledale.

      CHAPTER XVII. GOLDILIND COMES BACK TO GREENHARBOUR.

      They rode speedily, and had with them men who knew the woodland ways, so that the journey was nought so long thence as Goldilind had made it thither; and they stayed not for nightfall, since the moon was bright, so that they came before the Castle-gate before midnight. Now Goldilind looked to be cast into prison, whatever might befall her upon the morrow; but so it went not, for she was led straight to her own chamber, and one of her women, but not Aloyse, waited on her, and when she tried to have some tidings of her, the woman spake to her no more than if she were dumb. So all unhappily she laid her down in her bed, foreboding the worst, which she deemed might well be death at the hand of her jailers. As for Christopher, she saw the last of him as they entered the Castle-gate, and knew not what they had done with him. So she lay in dismal thoughts, but at last fell asleep for mere weariness.

      When she awoke it was broad day, and there was someone going about in the chamber; she turned, and saw that it was Aloyse. She felt sick at heart, and durst not move or ask of tidings; but presently Aloyse turned, and came to the bed, and made an obeisance, but spake not. Goldilind raised her head, and said wearily: "What is to be done, Aloyse, wilt thou tell me? For my heart fails me, and meseems, unless they have some mercy, I shall die to-day."

      "Nay," said the chambermaid, "keep thine heart up; for here is one at hand who would see thee, when it is thy pleasure to be seen."

      "Yea," said Goldilind, "Dame Elinor to wit." And she moaned, and fear and heart-sickness lay so heavy on her that she went nigh to swooning

      But Aloyse lifted up her head, and brought her wine and made her drink, and when Goldilind was come to herself again the maid said: "I say, keep up thine heart, for it is not Dame Elinor and the rods that would see thee, but a mighty man; nay, the most mighty, to wit, Earl Geoffrey, who is King of Meadham in all but the name."

      Goldilind did in sooth take heart at this tidings, and she said: "I wonder what he may have to do here; all this while he hath not been to Greenharbour, or, mayhappen, it might have been better for me."

      "I wot not," said Aloyse, "but even so it is. I shall tell thee, the messenger, whose horse thou didst steal, brought no other word in his mouth save this, that my Lord Earl was coming; and come he did; but that was toward sunset, long after they had laid the blood-hounds on thy slot, and I had been whipped for letting thee find the way out a-gates. Now, our Lady, when thou hast seen the Earl, and hast become our Lady and Mistress indeed, wilt thou bethink thee of the morn before yesterday on my behalf?"

      "Yea," said Goldilind, "if ever it shall befall."

      "Befall it shall," said Aloyse; "I dreamed of thee three nights ago, and thou sitting on thy throne commanding and forbidding the great men. But at worst no harm hath happened save to my shoulders and sides, by thy stealing thyself, since thou hast come back in the nick of time, and of thine own will, as men say. But tell me now of thine holiday, and if it were pleasant to thee?"

      Goldilind fell a-weeping at the word, bethinking her of yesterday morning, and Aloyse stood looking on her, but saying nought. At last spake Goldilind softly: "Tell me, Aloyse, didst thou hear any speaking of that young man who was brought in hither last night? Have they slain him?"

      Said Aloyse: "Soothly, my Lady, I deem they have done him no hurt, though I wot not for sure. There hath been none headed or hanged in the base-court to-day. I heard talk amongst the men-at-arms of one whom they took; they said he was a wonder of sheer strength, and how that he cast their men about as though he were playing at ball. Sooth to say, they seemed to bear him no grudge therefor. But now I would counsel thee to arise; and I am bidden to tire and array thee at the best. And now I would say a word in thine ear, to wit, that Dame Elinor feareth thee somewhat this morn."

      So Goldilind arose, and was arrayed like a very queen, and was served of what she would by Aloyse and the other women, and sat in her chamber awaiting the coming of the mighty Lord of Meadham.

      CHAPTER XVIII. EARL GEOFFREY SPEAKS WITH GOLDILIND.

      But a little while had she sat there, before footsteps a many came to the door, which was thrown open, and straight it was as if the sun had shone on a flower-bed, for there was come Earl Geoffrey and his lords all arrayed most gloriously. Then came the Earl up the chamber to Goldilind, and bent the knee before her, and said: "Lady and Queen, is it thy pleasure that thy servant should kiss thine hand?"

      She made him little cheer, but reached out to him her lily hand in its gold sleeve, and said: "Thou must do thy will."

      So he kissed the hand reverently, and said: "And these my lords, may they enter and do obeisance and kiss hands, my Lady?"

      Said Goldilind: "I will not strive to gainsay their will, or thine, my Lord."

      So they entered and knelt before her, and kissed her hand; and, to say sooth, most of them had been fain to kiss both hands of her, yea, and her cheeks and her lips; though but little cheer she made them, but looked sternly on them.

      Then the Earl spake to her, and told her of her realm, and how folk thrived, and of the deep peace that was upon the land, and of the merry days of Meadham, and the praise of the people. And she answered him nothing, but as he spake her bosom began to heave, and the tears came into her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Then man looked on man, and the Earl said: "My masters, I deem that my Lady hath will to speak to me privily, as to one who is her chiefest friend and well-willer. Is it so, my Lady?"

      She might not speak for the tears that welled out from her heart; but she bowed her head and strove to smile on him.

      But the Earl waved his hand, and those lords, and the women also, voided the chamber, and left those two alone, the Earl standing before her. But ere he could speak, she arose from her throne and fell on her knees before him, and joined hands palm to palm, and cried in a broken voice: "Mercy! Mercy! Have pity on my young life, great Lord!"

      But he lifted her up, and set her on her throne again, and said: "Nay, my Lady, this is unmeet; but if thou wouldst talk and tell with me I am ready to hearken."

      She strove with her passion a while, and then she said: "Great Lord, I pray thee to hearken, and to have patience with a woman's weak heart. Prithee, sit down here beside me.

      "It were unfitting,"

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