then set out on his search for his lost lady.
That they might the sooner search the country round, he and his brother,
who loved him dearly, took different directions, one going eastward, and
the other north. They put on various disguises as they went, Bertram
appearing now in the guise of a holy Palmer, now as a wandering
minstrel As he was sitting, despondent and well-nigh despairing,
beneath a hawthorn tree, an aged monk came by, and on seeing the
supposed minstrel's face of sorrow, said to him,

"All minstrels yet that e'er I saw
Are full of game and glee,
But thou art sad and woe-begone;
I marvel whence it be."

Bertram replied that he served an aged lord whose only child had been
stolen away, and that he would know no happiness until he had found her.
The pilgrim comforted him and bade him hope, telling him that

"Behind yon hills so steep and high,
Down in a lonely glen,
There stands a castle fair and strong,
Far from the abode of men."

Saying that he had heard a lady's voice lamenting in this lonely tower,
he passed on, giving Bertram the hope that now at last his quest was
ended. He made his way to that strong castle, and with his music
prevailed upon the porter to let him stay near at hand in a cavern; for
the porter refused to admit him to the castle in the absence of his
lord, though at the same time giving him food and directing him to the
cave. He piped all day and watched all night, and was rewarded by
hearing his lady's voice lamenting within the walls of her prison. On
the second night he caught a glimpse of her beauteous form, fair as the
moonbeams that shone around the tower. On the third night, worn with
watching, he slept, and only awakened as dawn drew nigh. Grasping his
weapon, he stole near to the castle walls, when to his amazement, he saw
his lady descend from her window by a ladder of rope, held for her by a
youth in Highland dress. Stunned at the sight, he could not move to
follow them, till they had left behind them the castle where the lady
had been held captive, and were about to disappear over the hill.
Silently and swiftly then he drew near, and crying furiously, "Vile
traitor! yield that lady up!" fell upon the youth who accompanied her,
who in his turn fought as furiously as he. In a few moments Bertram's
antagonist lay stretched on the ground; and as he gave him the fatal
thrust he cried, "Die, traitor, die!" The lady recognised his voice, and
rushing forward,