t
whatsoever I have been, I am good to thee--I am good to thee, and will
be true to thee."

He drew her down to him as he knelt there, and took his arms about her,
and though she yet shrank from him a little and the eager flame of his
love, he might not be gainsayed, and she gave herself to him and let
her body glide into his arms, and loved him no less than he loved her.
And there between them in the wilderness was all the joy of love that
might be.

CHAPTER 2

They Break Their Fast in the Wildwood

Now when it was hard on noon, and they had lain long in that grassy
place, Ralph rose up and stood upon his feet, and made as one
listening. But the Lady looked on him and said: "It is naught save a
hart and his hind running in the wood; yet mayhappen we were best on
the road, for it is yet long." "Yea," said Ralph, "and it may be that
my master will gather folk and pursue us." "Nay, nay," she said, "that
were to wrong him, to deem that he would gather folk to follow one man;
if he come, he will be by himself alone. When he found us gone he
doubtless cast himself on Silverfax, my horse, in trust of the beast
following after my feet."

"Well," said Ralph, "and if he come alone, there is yet a sword betwixt
him and thee."

She was standing up by him now with her hand on his shoulder, "Hear now
the darling, the champion! how he trusteth well in his heart and his
right hand. But nay, I have cared for thee well. Hearken, if thou
wilt not take it amiss that I tell thee all I do, good or evil. I said
a word in the ear of Silverfax or ever I departed, and now the good
beast knows my mind, and will lead the fierce lord a little astray, but
not too much, lest he follow us with his eager heart and be led by his
own keen woodcraft. Indeed, I left the horse behind to that end, else
hadst thou ridden the woodland ways with me, instead of my wearying
thee by our going afoot; and thou with thy weapons and wargear."

He looked upon her tenderly, and said smiling: "And thou, my dear, art
thou not a little wearied by what should weary a knight and one bred
afield?" "Nay," she said, "seest thou not how I walk lightly clad,
whereas I have left behind my mantle and cote-hardie?" Thereat she
gathered up her gown into her girdle ready for the way, and smiled as
she saw his eyes embrace the loveliness of her feet; and she spake as
she moved them daintily on the flowery grass: "Sooth to say, Knight, I
am no weakling dame, wh