ame to his ships, where he gat aboard
and sailed away to his own land, whence he came back again never to
trouble the City of the Sundering Flood.

Chapter L. The Red Lad Speaks Privily with Sir Godrick

This befel in April, and toward the latter days of it Osberne came
before Sir Godrick and would talk with him apart, and Sir Godrick
received him with all kindness, and spake to him privily, and asked
him what he would. Said Osberne: "Lord and dear friend, thou art now
become a mighty lord far greater than most kings. So busy have our two
lives been with deeds that might not be set aside, that now for a long
time we two have had but little converse together, such as friends
desire. Yet nevertheless through it all I have felt thy love unto me,
as mine unto thee, wherefore this word that I must say irks me sorely,
to wit that now at last we must presently part."

Said Sir Godrick: "If I am become a mighty ruler, thou hast become a
warrior such that I well think the worlds holds none other so mighty;
and true it is that I love thee no worse for all the hard and
troublous days. And hard and troublous have they been forsooth; so
that oft have I bethought me of that old man the king of the kine, and
his welcome and his bidding, in the wide green valley by the river
whereby we passed when we were wending to Longshaw that first time,
though well I wot that earth has no such refuge for me. I say thou art
great, and I love thee; wherefore thou hast a right to make thy
choice, and least of all would I balk thee in thy desire. Belike we
may meet again. Now wilt thou tell me what thou wilt do?" Said
Osberne: "With a good will. For this is true, lord, that having been
now five years amongst all sorts of folk, and some of them being such
as might tell me some tidings of what I seek, I have had no tidings,
and now needs must I say that lost is lost. But first, before I give
all up, I will go to Longshaw and abide there, and hang about the Wood
for one month, to give me one last chance; and then if nought befal, I
shall ride straight to my folk in the Dale beside the Sundering Flood,
and there shall I live and die in such content as I may. And I do thee
to wit, my friend, that the picture of the grey bents and the long
houses, and the sheep and beasts going to and fro, and the few folk of
the stead, and the hall within its shining black timbers, all this
comes before me and softens my heart. For hast thou not noted how
bitter and