st the
gap; but truly Mirdath the Beautiful was never to my sight; though one
evening I thought she might be not a great way off; for one of her great
boar-hounds came out of the wood, and down into the road to nose against
me, very friendly, as a dog oft doth with me.

Yet, though I waited a good time after the dog had left me, I had no
sight of Mirdath, and so passed on again, with my heart heavy in me; but
without bitterness, because of the understanding that was begun to grow
in my heart.

Now, there passed two weary and lonely weeks, in which I grew sick to
have knowledge of the beautiful maid. And, truly, in the end of that
time, I made a sudden resolving that I would go in through the gap, and
come to the home-grounds about the Hall, and so maybe have some sight of
her.

And this resolving I had one evening; and I went out immediately, and
came to the gap, and went in through the gap, and so by a long walking
to the gardens about the Hall. And, truly, when I was come there, I saw
a good light of lanthorns and torches, and a great company of people
dancing; and all drest in quaint dress; so that I knew they had a
festival for some cause. And there came suddenly a horrid dread into my
heart that this might be the marriage-dance of the Lady Mirdath; but,
indeed, this was foolishness; for I had surely heard of the marriage, if
there had been any. And, truly, in a moment, I remembered that she was
come one-and-twenty years of age on that day, and to the end of her
ward-ship; and this surely to be festival in honour of the same.

And a very bright and pretty matter it was to watch, save that I was so
heavy in the heart with loneliness and longing; for the company was
great and gay, and the lights plentiful and set all about from the
trees; and in leaf-made arbours about the great lawn. And a great table
spread with eating matters and silver and crystal, and great lamps of
bronze and silver went all a-down one end of the lawn; and the dance
constant upon the other part.

And surely, the Lady Mirdath to step out of the dance, very lovely
drest; yet seeming, to mine eyes, a little pale in the looming of the
lights. And she to wander to a seat to rest; and, indeed, in a moment,
there to be a dozen youths of the great families of the country-side, in
attendance about her, making talk and laughter, and each eager for her
favour; and she very lovely in the midst of them, but yet, as I did
think, lacking of somewhat, and