his next midnight, and then thy sorrow
and mine shall be at an end: and now I must needs depart. Follow me not,
but remember!"

And therewith she turned about and fled like the wind down the stream.

But Walter stood wondering, and knew not what to make of it, whether it
were for good or ill: for he knew now that she had paled and been seized
with terror because of the upheaving of the ugly head; and yet she had
seemed to speak out the very thing she had to say. Howsoever it were, he
spake aloud to himself: Whatever comes, I will keep tryst with her.

Then he drew his sword, and turned this way and that, looking all about
if he might see any sign of the Evil Thing; but nought might his eyes
behold, save the grass, and the stream, and the bushes of the dale. So
then, still holding his naked sword in his hand, he clomb the bent out of
the dale; for that was the only way he knew to the Golden House; and when
he came to the top, and the summer breeze blew in his face, and he looked
down a fair green slope beset with goodly oaks and chestnuts, he was
refreshed with the life of the earth, and he felt the good sword in his
fist, and knew that there was might and longing in him, and the world
seemed open unto him.

So he smiled, if it were somewhat grimly, and sheathed his sword and went
on toward the house.

CHAPTER XIX: WALTER GOES TO FETCH HOME THE LION'S HIDE

He entered the cool dusk through the porch, and, looking down the
pillared hall, saw beyond the fountain a gleam of gold, and when he came
past the said fountain he looked up to the high-seat, and lo! the Lady
sitting there clad in her queenly raiment. She called to him, and he
came; and she hailed him, and spake graciously and calmly, yet as if she
knew nought of him save as the leal servant of her, a high Lady.
"Squire," she said, "we have deemed it meet to have the hide of the
servant of the Enemy, the lion to wit, whom thou slewest yesterday, for a
carpet to our feet; wherefore go now, take thy wood-knife, and flay the
beast, and bring me home his skin. This shall be all thy service for
this day, so mayst thou do it at thine own leisure, and not weary
thyself. May good go with thee."

He bent the knee before her, and she smiled on him graciously, but
reached out no hand for him to kiss, and heeded him but little.
Wherefore, in spite of himself, and though he knew somewhat of her guile,
he could not help marvelling that this should be she who h