died to
silence.

The arms of the Proud Rosalind dropped to her sides.

"Is the time not yet?" said she, "and will it never be? Why, then, let
me belong for ever to the champion that strikes for me to-morrow in the
lists. A sorry champion," said she a wan smile, "yet I will hold me
bound to him according to my vow. But first I must win him a sword."

Then she kissed the white hart between the eyes and said, "Go where you
will. I shall be gone till daylight." And it rose up to run the moonlit
hills, and she went down through the trees, and left the Wishing-Pool
to its unruffled peace.

Straight down towards sleeping Bury Rosalind went, full of her purpose;
and after an hour passed through the silent village.

Her errand was not wholly easy to her, but she thought, "I do not go to
ask favors, but plain dealings; and it must be done secretly or not at
all." As she came near the ferry a red glow broke on her vision.

"Does the water burn?" she said, and quickened her steps. To her
surprise she saw that Harding's forge was busy; the light she had seen
sprang from it. She had expected to find it locked and silent, but now
the little space it held in the night was lit with fire and resounded
with the stroke of the Red Smith's hammer. Proud Rosalind stood fast as
though he were fashioning a spell to chain her eyes. And so he was, for
he hammered on a sword.

He did not turn his head at her approach; but when at last she stood
beside his door, and did not move away, he spoke to her.

"You walk late," said he.

"May not people walk late," said she, "as well as work late?"

Without answering he set himself to his task again and heeded her no
more. "Smith!" she cried imperiously.

"What then?"

"I came to speak with you."

"Even so?" She barely heard the words for the din of his great hammer.

"You are unmannerly, Smith."

"Speak then," said he, dropping his tools, "and never forget, maid,
that it is not I invited this encounter."

At that she cried out hotly, "Does not your shop invite trade?"

"Ay; but what's that to you?"

"My only purpose in talking with you," she said in a flame of wrath. "I
require what you have, but I would rather buy it of any man than you."

"What do you require?"

"That!" She pointed to the sword.

"I cannot sell it. It is a young knight's blade I am mending against
the jousting."

"Have you no other?"

"You cannot give me my price," said the Red Smith.

She took from her