o my lattice window to listen to the
birds']

Her fingers tore open the letter which had dropped from
beneath the bird's wing, and she read, and as she read she
laughed aloud.

Lord William had written a letter that was full of grief, because
he could not come to the lady he loved, yet did the lady laugh.
And this is why she laughed both long and glad. Because she had
made up her mind that as he could not come to her she herself
would go to Lord William.

'Carry this message to my own true love,' said she then to the
gay goshawk.

'Since you cannot come to me, I myself will come to you in your
cold northern country. And as a token of my love I send you by
your gay goshawk a ring from off my finger, a wreath from off my
yellow hair. And lest these should not please you I send my
heart, and more than that can you not wish.

'Prepare the wedding feast, invite the guests, and then haste you
to meet me at St. Mary's Church, for there, ere long, will you
find me.

'Fly, gay goshawk, fly and carry with you my message to Lord
William.'

And the bird flew o'er hill and dale until once again he reached
the grey northern castle in which his master dwelt. And he saw
his master's eye grow glad, his pale cheek glow as he listened to
the message, as he held the tokens of his own true love.

Then the lady, left alone, closed her lattice window and went up
to her own room followed by her maidens. Here she began to moan
and cry as though she were in great pain, or seized by sudden
illness. So ill she seemed that those who watched her feared that
she would die.

'My father!' moaned the lady, 'tell my father that I am ill; bid
him come to me without delay.'

Up to her room hastened her father, and sorely did he grieve when
he saw that his daughter was so ill.

'Father, dear father,' she cried, holding his strong hand in her
pale white one, 'grant me a boon ere I die.'

'An you ask not for the lord who lives in the cold north country,
my daughter, you may ask for what you will, and it shall be
granted.'

'Promise me, then,' said his daughter, 'that though I die here in
the sunny South, you will carry me when I am dead to the cold
grey North.

'And at the first church to which we come, tarry, that a mass may
be said for my soul. At the second let me rest until the bells be
tolled slow and solemn. When you come to the third church, which
is named St. Mary's, grant that from thence you will not bear me
until the night s