ended to
be overtaken, and turned a woeful countenance to the young knight, who
listened, believing, to the false tale she told. Pitying her from his
heart, he assured her of his care and protection, and while they are
faring through the woods together, let us see what had become of Una.

The maiden was herself wandering distraught, seated on her 'unhastie
beast,' when with a fearful roar a lion rushed out from a thicket with
eyes glaring and teeth gleaming, seeking to devour his prey. But at the
sight of Una's tender beauty he stopped suddenly, and, stooping down, he
kissed her feet and licked her hands.

At this kindness on the part of the great creature, Una bent her head
and wept grievously. 'He, my lion and my noble lord, how does he find it
in his cruel heart to hate her that him loved?' she moaned sadly, and
the lion again looked pityingly at her, and at last the maiden checked
her sobs and bade her ass go on, the lion walking by her side during the
day, and sleeping at her feet by night.

They had travelled far and for many days, through a wilderness untrodden
by either man or beast, when at the foot of a mountain they spied a
damsel bearing on her shoulder a pot of water. At sight of the lion she
flung down the pitcher, and ran to the hut where she dwelt, without once
looking behind her. In the cottage sat her blind mother, not knowing
what could be the meaning of the shrieks and cries uttered by her
daughter, who shut the door quickly after her, and caught trembling hold
of her mother's hands.

It was the first lion the girl had ever seen, or she would have known
that if he was determined to enter, it was not a wicket-gate that would
prevent him. As neither mother nor daughter replied to Una's gentle
prayer for a night's lodging, her 'unruly page' put his paw on the
little door, which opened with a crash. The maiden then stepped softly
over the threshold, begging afresh that she might pass the night in one
corner, and receiving no answer--for the women were still too terrified
to speak--she curled herself up on the earthen floor with the lion
beside her.

About midnight there arrived at the door, which Una had refastened, a
thief laden with spoils of churches, and whatever else he had managed to
pick up by stealth. To spend the night in thieving was his custom, and
hither he brought his spoils, as he thought none would suspect a blind
woman and her daughter of harbouring stolen goods.

Many times he cal