CHAPTER XXXIII.

VIRIDIS TELLETH THE TALE OF THEIR SEEKING.

Now came they back to where were the three others, and Viridis was

quite come to herself and ran to meet her man, and he took her in his

arms and caressed her sweetly; and then he turned to Birdalone, and

spared no sign of friendly love to her; and Arthur, for his part, did

so much for Aurea and Viridis. No long tale there was between them for

that while, for they would busk them to be gone. But first they dug a

grave for those two poor men who had been slain by the felons, and

prayed for them. As for the caitiffs who lay slain there, one score and

two of them, they left them for the wolves to devour, and the tearing

of the kites and crows; nor meddled they with any of their gear or

weapons. But they speedily found Hugh’s raiment, and his pouch, wherein

was money good store; and they found also rings and ouches and girdles,

which had been torn from the damsels in the first rage of their taking.

First though, when they had gathered together such horses as they

needed, and let the rest run wild, Birdalone brought her she-friends

down into the dale, and did them to bathe in a pool of the stream, and

tended them as if she were their tire-woman, so that they were mightily

refreshed; and she made garlands for them of the woodland flowers, as

eglantine and honeysuckle; and herself, she bathed her, and did not on

her battle-gear again, but clad her body in her woman’s array.

Then she brought forth victual and wine from Habundia’s store, and set

it out on the stream-side; and thereafter she went up the bent to the

green way and fetched down Hugh and Arthur, and brought them to the

ladies, and bade them note how trim and lovely they were gotten again,

and again it could scarce be but that kisses and caresses were toward;

and in all content and love they took their breakfast, though

bitter-sweet unto Atra had been the holding of her hand by Arthur and

the kissing of her cheek, albeit not for worlds had she foregone it.

So there they abode merrily for some three hours, whereas the day was

yet young; and they asked and told each other much, so that the whole

tale, both of the seekers from the world and of the seekers from the

water-side, came out little by little. Now of the last ye have heard

what there is to tell, but for the others Viridis took up the tale, as

erst she did with the dealings of the Knights of the Quest in the Isle

of Increase Unsought; and it seemed by her tale that Hugh and the

ladies, though they were living happily and prosperously in the land of

the Green Mountains, wherein Hugh had wealth enow, yet the thought both

of Arthur and of Birdalone would not out of their minds, and often it

was that they thought of them, not as friends think of friends of whom

they are content to know that they are yet alive and most-like

thriving, but as friends think of friends whose absence cuts a shard

out of their lives, so that they long to see them day by day. Wherefore

it came to this at last, after much talk hereof, that Hugh left his

possessions and his children (for he had two women-bairns born of

Viridis) in the keeping of trusty folk, and took with him Viridis his

wife, and Aurea and Atra, and they set out to seek those twain the

world over till they should find them. And first by the rede of Atra

they fared to Greenford, and there tarried a month, and sought tidings

of many, and heard a word here and there whereby they deemed that

Birdalone had passed therethrough some little time before. So they went

thence to the Castle of the Quest, and found it in such plight as ye

have heard, and it went sore to their hearts to behold it and to be

there. But therewithal they happed upon Leonard the priest, and he was

rejoiced beyond measure to see them, and told them all that ye have

heard concerning Birdalone’s coming thither and departing thence; and

he told them therewith about those hauntings and sendings in the hall

of the castle, and that they came to an end the very day that Birdalone

departed thence in the Sending Boat. Yet for the last three days there

had been visions therein; but being questioned he was loth to tell

thereof, so they forbore him a while.

At these tidings they were sore moved, and they talked the matter over

betwixt themselves (and Leonard also was in their redes), and they must

needs deem that either Birdalone was cast away, or that she had come to

her old dwelling, the House under the Wood, and belike had fallen into

the hands of the witch once more, and thereat were they sore downcast;

and yet somewhat it was, that they had heard sure tidings of her;

though meanwhile of Arthur had they heard nought.

While they talked this over, Atra, who had been somewhat silent, spake

and said: Here are we brought to a stop with the first tidings which we

have heard, whereas we know no manner of wending the Great Water. This

seemeth evil, but let us not be cast down, or die redeless. Ye have

heard of what sayeth Sir Leonard of these hauntings in the hall, and

how that they have come back again, wherefore why should we not sleep

in the hall this night, those of us at least who have not so much fear

as not to note them well, to see if we may draw any avail from them?

How say ye? For my part I will try the adventure, whatever may come of

it.

Now they all yeasaid it, though Aurea was somewhat timorous, albeit she

would not be parted from the others; so when night came there they made

their beds and lay down; and the end of it was, that a little before

midnight Atra waked the others, and did them to wit that by her deeming

something was toward; and presently they were all four as wide awake as

ever they were in their lives; and next, without any sound that was

strange, there came the image of a woman on to the dais, clad in green

like to an huntress of ancient days, her feet sandalled, her skirts

gathered up into her girdle, so that her legs were naked; she had a

quiver at her back, and a great bow in her hand.

Now to all of them save Atra this appearance seemed to be the image of

Birdalone; but she told her fellows afterwards, that to her it seemed

not to be altogether Birdalone, but rather some other one most like

unto her, as it were her twin-sister.

Gazed the image kindly and sweetly on them, so that they beheld it

without fear; and it seemed to them that it gave forth speech; yet not

so much that the sound of words was in the air about and smote their

ears, as that the sense of words reached the minds of them. And this

was the tale of it: Ye, who are seeking the lost, have done well to

come hither, and now shall ye do well to wend the straightest way to

the dwelling of the wildwood, and that is by way of the western verge

of Evilshaw the forest. Greenford is on the way. Way-leaders ye shall

get; be wise, yet not prudent, and take them, though they be evil, and

your luck may well avail.

Therewith the image vanished away as it had come, and Leonard, who with

the others took the appearance for an image of Birdalone, said that it

was such as he had seen it the three last days. So they lay not down

again, but departed for Greenford without tarrying, and rode the other

end of the short night through till they came to Greenford. But Leonard

would not with them; and Hugh behight him, if he lived and did well, to

come back somehow to the Castle of the Quest, and so redo it that it

should be no longer desolate. So to Greenford they came, and spared not

to do folk to wit that they would ride a pilgrimage in Evilshaw, and

were fain of way-leaders; and there they dwelt a day or two, and many

would let them of that journey, which, said they, was rather deadly

than perilous only. But on the third day came to Sir Hugh two stout

carles well weaponed, who said that they knew well all the ways that

led to Evilshaw, and the ways that went therethrough, and they offered

themselves for a wage to Sir Hugh. Now these said carles were not over

fair of favour, but seemed somewhat of ribalds, nor would Sir Hugh have

taken them to service in his house at home; but he called to mind that

it were more prudence than wisdom to spoil his journey and lose the

occasion of finding his dear friends for the hasty judgment of a man’s

face and demeanour, wherefore he waged these two men, and they set out

for the western edges of Evilshaw.

Many towns and thorps they passed through, and everywhere, when men

knew whither they were bound, they letted them all they might in words;

but little heed they paid thereto, whereas they were all fixed in their

rede that nought was to be done save the finding of their friends, and

that their life-days were spoiled if they found them not. And moreover,

each one of them, but especially Atra and Viridis, had dreams of the

night from time to time, wherein they seemed to see the green-clad

woman, were she Birdalone or another, beckoning and bidding them to

enter the Wood of Evilshaw.

As to those two way-leaders withal, whether it were that they got used

to their faces, or that their ways and manners were nought uncourteous

or fierce, they doubted them less and less as time wore; all save

Viridis, whose flesh crept when they drew anigh her, as will betide one

who comes across an evil-looking creeping thing. As for Atra, she now

began to heed little the things about her, as if her heart were wholly

set on the end of the journey.

But now at last were they come so far that they had no choice but to

use the said way-leaders, for they were gotten to the edge of Evilshaw.

So they entered it, and those two led them by half-blind ways and paths

amongst the thickets, and fumbled never with the road.

Five days they went thus, and on the fifth evening they lay down to

sleep in the wood, and it was the turn of those two hirelings to keep

watch and ward, and they woke not the next morn save with the hands of

the Red Felons at their throats, so that Hugh was bound, and his two

trusty men who came with him from the Green Mountains were slain before

a stroke might be struck.

This was the end of Viridis’ tale, save that she told how that it was

she that had uttered those two shrieks which Arthur and Birdalone had

heard from the thicket; and that she had so done when the two false

way-leaders laid hold of her to drag her away from her man, who stood

there before her bound to a tree that he might perish there, whereon

the two caitiffs had smitten her into unwit that they might have no

more of her cries.

Now when all this had been told, and they had abided awhile in the fair

little dale, and had said many kind endearing words of friendship, they

went up on the green way again, and took what of the horses they needed

and trussed their goods thereon (and Birdalone would not leave that

brave armour which Habundia had given her), and they dight others for

their home-riding, and the rest they turned loose into the woods, and

so rode their ways, Birdalone going ever with Atra, and Arthur by

Aurea; but Viridis must needs have Hugh within reach of her hand all

the way.

Good speed they made, so that ere the night had fallen on them, though

the sun was set, they had come to the House under the Wood; and there

again was joy and wondering of the new-comers, and merry feasting on

such simple victuals as were there, and good-night and rest in all

contentment in the house where erst had Birdalone tholed so many griefs

and fears.

Here ends the Sixth Part of the Water of the Wondrous Isles, which is

called The Days of Absence, and begins the Seventh Part, which is

called The Days of Returning.

THE SEVENTH PART:

THE DAYS OF RETURNING.

CHAPTER I.

SIR HUGH ASKETH BIRDALONE WHERE SHE WOULD HAVE THE ABODE OF THEIR

FELLOWSHIP TO BE.

On the next day, they arose and were glad, and it was to them as if the

sun of the early summer had arisen for nought save to shine on their

happy day. And they went about from place to place whereas tidings had

befallen Birdalone; and she served them one and all as if she were

their handmaid, and they loved her and caressed her, and had been fain

to do all her will did they but know it.

In this wise wore day after day till June began to wane, and then on a

time came Hugh unto Birdalone, and spake unto her and said: All we have

been talking together, and I am sent to ask thee what is in thy mind as

to abiding here or going elsewhither. For now that we be come together

again, not for all the kingdoms of the world would we sunder again; and

above all, none of us would leave thee, O my sister. But if thou wilt

come with me to our land under the Green Mountains, there is for thee a

pleasant place and a fair dwelling, and honour from all folk, and our

love that shall never leave thee; and I, and Arthur my brother, we

shall win fame together amongst the knighthood, and thou shalt be proud

and glad both of him and of me.

She said: And if I may not go with thee thither, what other way is

there to escape the sundering? Said Hugh: This, that thou choose in the

world what land liketh thee for a dwelling-place, and we will go with

thee and leave thee never, and thou shalt be our lady and queen. Then

he laughed and said: Yet, our lady, I have left behind me under the

Green Mountains certain things which I love, as two fair

women-children, and a squire or two whose fathers served my fathers,

and whose children I would should serve my children. And moreover I

have left there certain matters of avail, my wealth and livelihood to

wit. Wilt thou begrudge it if I must needs go fetch these, and bring

them to the land where thou dwellest, through whatever peril we may

have to face?

Dear art thou, she said, and my very friend, but tell me: how sorry

wouldst thou be to leave thine own land and follow after me for the

sake of one who is neither thine own true love nor of thy kindred? Said

he: Not so sorry that I should grudge against thee thereafter. Moreover

if that much of sorrow came to me, I should deem it not ill, lest I

grow so over-happy that the luck rise up against me and undo me.

She said, smiling on him kindly: Meseems that I am over-happy, whereas

I have such dear cherishing of noble friends. But now I will tell thee

all, and maybe thou wilt love me the less for the telling. In these

woods here, and lady and mistress of them, dwelleth one who is not of

the race of Adam. And she helped and cherished me and gave me wisdom

when I was tormented and accursed, and she it was who saved me from the

evil witch, and gave me the good hap to meet your loves and to fetch

you to their helping; and twice hath she saved me from mortal peril

otherwise. And she hath found me my love, thy brother Arthur, and

delivered him from unwit and wanhope; and she it is who drew all you

hither unto us, and who delivered you from the felons who had mastered

you. And I have sworn unto her that I would never wholly sunder me from

her; and how shall I break mine oath and grieve her, even had I the

will thereto, as God wot I have not? And she wept therewith.

But Hugh kissed her and said: Birdalone, my dear, why weepest thou?

Didst thou not hear my word, that thy people should be my people, and

thy land my land, and that whither thou goest I will go? Dost thou not

trow me then? Or how deemest thou I may tear thy friend Viridis from

thee, when she hath just found thee? But tell me, hast thou in thy mind

any dwelling-place other than this?

Yea, she said: I may not depart very far from this forest of Evilshaw

lest I grieve my wisdom-mother overmuch. But if one go westward through

the wood, he shall happen at last, when he cometh forth of it, on a

good town hight Utterhay, which lieth on the very edge thereof. There

was I born, and there also I look to find three dear and trusty friends

to whom I owe return of their much kindness. It is a noble town in a

pleasant land, and thou and my lord Arthur may well win both honour and

worship and lordship there. And wholly I trust in thy word that thou

wilt not grudge against me for dragging thee thither.

Therewith she gave him her hand, smiling on him, though there was yet

trouble in her face. But he took the hand and held it, and laughed

merrily and said: Lo now! how good it is for friends to take counsel

together! What better may we do than go with thee thither? And how

greatly will Viridis rejoice when she heareth of this. Now will I go

and tell her and the others.

Go then, dear lad, she said; but as to the matter of thy fetching thy

children and livelihood hither, that may be not so hard nor so perilous

as thou deemest; and thou shalt go about it whenso thou wilt, and the

sooner the better, and we shall abide thee here as long as need may be.

And therewith he went his ways to tell Viridis and the others of this

rede which they had come to between them.

CHAPTER II.

BIRDALONE TAKETH COUNSEL WITH HER WOOD-MOTHER CONCERNING THE MATTER OF

SIR HUGH.

On that same day went Birdalone to the Oak of Tryst and called her

wood-mother to her, and she came glad and smiling, and kissed and

embraced Birdalone, and said unto her: Now I see that thou art well

content with this last matter I have done for thee, whereas thou art

come to crave a new gift of me. How knowest thou that? said Birdalone,

laughing. Said Habundia:

Wouldst thou have come to me so soon otherwise from out of all that

happiness? I have come to tell thee of my rede, said Birdalone, and to

ask thee if thou art like-minded with me thereon. Said the wood-wife:

And what is thy rede, my child? Wood-mother, said Birdalone, we deem

that it were good for us all to go down into Utterhay where I was born,

and to take up our abode therein.

Said the wood-wife: This rede I praise, and even so would I have

counselled you to do; but I abided to see if it should come from out of

thy breast, and now even so it hath done; wherefore I understand thy

wisdom and rejoice in thee. And now crave thy boon, my child, and thou

shalt have it without fail.

Yea, said Birdalone, that will I, and the more that it is a simple one

and easy for thee to do. Thou knowest that Hugh the Green Knight hath

come with my she-friends seeking us all the way from under the Green

Mountains, and he hath left there goods that he needs must have and

folk whom he loves; and now he would go back thither, and fetch all

that away hither, and see to his matters as soon as may be. And I would

have thee counsel us what to do, whether to build a barque, as

perchance we may get it done, and sail the lake therein to the Castle

of the Quest or thereabout, and thence to ride to his land; or else to

take thy guidance and safe-conduct through the wood, and to bring his

folk back the same way.

Said the wood-wife: As to the way by water, I may help you little

therein, and meseemeth that way be many traps and wiles and many

perils. Wherefore I bid you try it not, but let the Green Knight come

up hither to this tree to-morrow before noon, all horsed and armed and

arrayed, and there shall he find three men armed in green gear, horsed

well, and leading two sumpter-beasts with them; and they shall be his

until he giveth them back unto me. But if he doubteth any thing betwixt

the wood’s end and under the Green Mountains, let him wage what folk he

will besides, for these my men will have money enough of his with them.

But by no means let him send them away till he hath done with the wood

altogether, both betwixt here and the western dwelt-land, and here and

Utterhay, save thou be with him. But while these be with him, both he

and whatsoever money he bringeth shall be sure from all peril whiles

they be in the wood. Now, my child, was not this the boon thou camest

up hither to ask of me?

Yea verily, said Birdalone; yet also I came up hither to praise thee

and thank thee and love thee. And she threw herself into Habundia’s

arms and kissed and caressed her, and Habundia her in like wise.

Spake the wood-wife: Thou art the beloved child of my wisdom; and now I

see of thee that thou wilt be faithful and true and loving unto me unto

the end. And I think I can see that thou and thy man shall do well and

happily in Utterhay; and the Green Knight also and thy she-friends. And

whatsoever thou wilt of me that I may do for thee or thy friends, ask

it freely, and freely shalt thou have it. But this I will bid thee,

that the while the Green Knight shall be gone about his matter, thou

shalt come hither to me often; and thy friends also thou shalt bring to

me, that I may see them and talk to them and love them. And specially

shalt thou bid Atra unto me; for meseems she is so wise already that I

may learn her more wisdom, and put that into her heart which may solace

her and make her to cease from fretting her own heart, and from grief

and longing overmuch. And I were fain to reward her in that she hath

forborne to grudge against thee and to bear thee enmity. For I know, my

child, not from mine own heart, but from the wisdom I have learned, how

hardly the children of Adam may bear to have that which they love taken

away from them by another, even if they themselves might in the long

last have wearied of it and cast it away their own selves. Go now, my

child, and do thy friend to wit what I will do for him.

Therewith they parted, and Birdalone fared home to the house, and found

the fellowship of them all sitting by the brookside, and talking

sweetly together in all joy and hope of what their life should be in

the new land whereto Birdalone would lead them. Straightway then she

told them of Hugh and his journey, and how well he should be guarded in

the wood both coming and going. And they thought that right good, and

they thanked her and praised her, and took her into their talk, and she

sat down by them happily.

CHAPTER III.

OF THE JOURNEYING THROUGH THE FOREST OF EVILSHAW UNTO THE TOWN OF

UTTERHAY.

On the morrow in due time Birdalone, going afoot, led Sir Hugh,

all-armed and horsed, to the Oak of Tryst, and there they found the

three men-at-arms, well-weaponed and in green weed, abiding them. They

did obeisance to Sir Hugh, and he greeted them, and then without more

ado he kissed Birdalone and went his ways with his way-leaders, but

Birdalone turned back to the house and her friends.

Next day Birdalone brought her three she-friends unto the Trysting Oak,

and showed them to the wood-mother, and she was kind and soft with

them; and both Aurea and Viridis were shy with her, and as if they

feared her, but Atra was frank and free, and spake boldly. And

thereafter when Birdalone went to meet her wood-mother, Atra would go

with her if she were asked, and at last would go alone, when she found

that Habundia was fain of her coming, so that there were not many days

when they met not; and the wood-wife fell to learning her the lore of

the earth, as she had done aforetime with Birdalone; and Atra waxed

ruddier and merrier of countenance, whereof was Birdalone right glad,

and Arthur yet more glad, and the others well content.

So wore the time till Hugh had been gone for twenty and three days, and

as they walked the meadows anigh the house about undern, they saw a

knight riding down the bent toward them, and presently they knew him

for Hugh, and turned and hastened to meet him, so that he was

straightway amidst them, and on foot. Dear then were the greetings and

caresses betwixt them, and when it was over, and Birdalone had led away

his horse and dight it for him, and had gotten him victuals and drink,

and they were all sitting on the grass together, he told them how he

had fared. He had done all his matters in the Land under the Green

Mountains, and had given over his lands and houses to a man of his

lineage, his cousin, a good knight, and had taken from him of gold and

goods what he would. Then he had taken his two bairns and their nurse,

and an old squire and five sergeants, whereof one was his

foster-brother, and the others men somewhat stricken in years, and had

departed with them. Sithence he had come his ways to Greenford, and had

held talk therein with the prior of a great and fair house of Black

Canons, and had given him no little wealth wherewith to re-do the

Castle of the Quest what was needed, and for livelihood of four canons

to dwell there, and Leonard to be their prior, that there they might

remember Sir Baudoin their dear friend daily in the office, and do good

unto his soul. Sithence he had ridden to the Castle of the Quest with

the said Prior of St. Austin of Greenford, and had found Leonard, and

had settled all the business how it was to be done. Thereafter he had

returned to Greenford, and gathered his folk, and got him gone, under

the guidance of Habundia’s folk, by castles and thorps and towns the

nearest way to the edge of Evilshaw. And they had come to the forest,

and ridden it six days without mishap; and when they had come to the

Oak of Tryst once more, the way-leaders said that it were well if all

they together tarried not much longer in the forest; wherefore they had

brought them to a fair wood-lawn, and there they encamped, and were

there as now. And, said Hugh, there are they abiding me, and it is in

my mind that this very eve we go, all of us, and meet them there, if ye

may truss your goods in that while; but as to victuals, we have plenty,

and it needeth not. And then to-morrow shall we wend our way as

straight as may be toward the good town of Utterhay.

All they yeasaid it, though in her heart maybe Birdalone had been fain

of abiding a little longer in her own land; but she spake no word

thereof. And they all set to work to the trussing up of their goods,

and then turned their backs on the Great Water, and came up into the

woodland, and so to the camp in the wood-lawn. And there had Viridis a

joyful meeting with her babes, and she gladdened the hearts of Sir

Hugh’s men-at-arms by her kind greeting; and they rejoiced in meeting

Aurea and Atra again, and they wondered at Birdalone and her beauty,

and their hearts went out to her, both the old men’s and the young

ones. But Habundia’s men looked on it all like images of warriors.

There then they feasted merrily that evening. But when the morrow was

come they were speedily on the way toward Utterhay; and the way-leaders

guided them so well and wisely, that by noon of the fifth day they were

come forth of the wood and on to the bent that looked down upon the

town of Utterhay. There turned to Hugh the three way-leaders, and

spake: Lord, we have done thee the service which we were bidden; if

thou hast no further need of us, give us leave.

Said Hugh: Leave ye have, and I shall give you a great reward ere ye

go. Said the chief of them: Nay, lord, no reward may we take, save a

token from thee that thou art content with us. What token shall it be?

said Hugh. Quoth the way-leader: That each of us kiss the Lady

Birdalone on the mouth, for she it is that is verily our mistress under

our great mistress.

Laughed Hugh thereat, but the men laughed not; then spake Hugh: This

must be at the lady’s own will. Even so, said they.

Then Hugh brought Birdalone thither and told her what was toward, and

she consented to the kiss with a good will, and said to each of the men

after they had kissed her: Herewith goeth my love to the mistress and

queen of the woods; do ye bear the same unto her. And thereafter those

way-leaders fared back into the woods.

Now they gather themselves together and go down toward Utterhay, and

make a brave show, what with the sumpter-horses, and the goodly array

of the four ladies, and the glittering war-gear of the men-at-arms; and

Sir Hugh and Sir Arthur displayed their pennons as they went.

All this saw the warders on the wall of Utterhay; and they told the

captain of the porte, and he came up on to the wall, and a man with

him; and when he saw this bright company coming forth from the wood, he

bade men to him, two score of them, all weaponed, and he did on his

armour, and rode out-a-gates with them to meet those new-comers; and

this he did, not because he did not see them to be but few, but because

they came forth out of Evilshaw, and then doubted if they were

trustworthy.

So he met them two bowshots from the gate, and rode forward till he was

close to the wayfarers; and when he beheld the loveliness of the women,

and especially of Birdalone, who wore that day the gleaming-glittering

gown which Habundia had given her, he was abashed, and deemed yet more

that he had to do with folk of the Faery. But he spake courteously, and

said, turning to Hugh, who rode the foremost: Fair sir, would ye tell

unto the man whose business it is to safeguard the good town of

Utterhay what folk ye be, and on what errand ye ride, and how it is

that ye come forth from Evilshaw safe, in good case, with pennons

displayed, as if the said wood were your very own livelihood? For,

sooth to say, hitherto we have found this, that all men dread Evilshaw,

and none will enter it uncompelled.

Thereto answered Hugh: I hight Sir Hugh the Green Knight, and am come

from under the Green Mountain; and this is Sir Arthur, called the Black

Squire, but a knight he is verily, and of great kindred and a warrior

most doughty. And he hath been captain of the good town of Greenford

west away through the wood yonder a long way, and hath done the town

and the frank thereof mickle good service in scattering and destroying

the evil companies of the Red Hold, which hold we took by force of arms

from the felons who held it for the torment and plague of the

country-side.

Now as to our errand, we be minded to dwell in your good town of

Utterhay, and take our part with your folk, and we have wealth enow

thereto, so as to be beholden to none; and as time goes on we may serve

you in divers wise, and not least in this maybe, that with a good will

we shall draw sword for your peace and the freedom of them of Utterhay.

When the captain heard these words, he made obeisance to Sir Hugh, and

said: Fair sir, though we be here a long way from Greenford, yet have

we heard some tale of the deeds of you, and surely the porte and all

the folk shall be fain of your coming. Yet I pray thee be not wrath;

for there is a custom of the good town, that none may enter its gates

coming from out of this Forest of Evilshaw, save he leave some pledge

or caution with me, be it his wealth, or the body of some friend or

fellow, or, if nought else, his very own body. Wherefore if thou, Sir

Green Knight, wilt but give us some sure pledge, then will I turn about

and ride with you back and through the gate into Utterhay; and

doubtless, when the mayor hath seen you and spoken with you, the said

pledge shall be rendered to you again.

Ere Hugh might answer, came Birdalone forth and said: Sir captain, if

I, who am the lady of the Black Squire here, be hostage good enough,

then take me, and if need be, chain me to make surer of me. And she

drew near unto him smiling, and held out her hands as if for the

manacles.

But when the captain saw her thus, all the blood stirred in his body

for joy of her beauty, and he might but just sit his horse for his

wonder and longing; but he said: The saints forbid it, lady, that I

should do thee any hurt or displeasure, or aught save the most worship

I may. But thy hostage I will take, Sir Knight if thou be content to

yield her, whereas in an hour belike she shall be free again. And now

fare we all gateward again.

So then they all rode on together, Birdalone by the captain’s left

hand; and as they passed by the poor houses without the wall, she

looked and saw the one which had been her mother’s dwelling, so oft and

so closely had she told her all about it.

Thus then they entered Utterhay, and the captain led them straight to

the mote-house whereas the mayor and the porte were sitting; and much

people followed them through the streets, wondering at them, and

praising the loveliness of the women, and the frank and gallant bearing

of the men-at-arms.

So they lighted down at the mote-house and were brought to the mayor,

and when he had spoken them but a little, and had come to himself again

from the fear and abashment that he had of them, he showed himself full

fain of their coming, and bade them welcome to the good town, and took

them into his own house to guesting, until folk might dight a very

goodly house which the porte did give unto them.

But some two hours afterwards, when they were housed in all content, as

they sat in the hall of the mayor, which was great and goodly, talking

and devising with worthies of Utterhay, there entered two fair and

frank-looking young men, who went straight up to Birdalone, and the

first knelt down before her and kissed her hand, and said: O our lady,

and art thou verily come to us! O our happiness and the joy of this

day!

But when she saw him and heard him and felt the touch of his hand, she

bent down to him and kissed him on the forehead, for she knew him that

it was Robert Gerardson.

Then the other man came up to her as if he also would have knelt to

her, but his purpose changed, and he cast his arms about her body and

fell to kissing her face all over, weeping the while, and then he drew

off and stood trembling before her and she, all blushing like a red

rose and laughing a little, and yet with the tears in her eyes, said: O

Giles Gerardson, and thou, Robert, how fain I am to see you twain; but

tell me, is your father well? Yea, verily, our dear lady, said Robert,

and it will be unto him as a fresh draught of youth when he wotteth

that thou art come to dwell amongst us; for so it is, O lady beloved,

is it not? said he. Yea, forsooth, or even so I hope, said Birdalone.

But here be other friends that ye must needs know, if we come to dwell

together here in peace; and then go and fetch me hither your father.

Therewith she presented them unto Arthur and Hugh and the three ladies

of the Quest, and all they greeted them kindly and in all honour; and

the Gerardsons loved and worshipped them, and especially the lovely

ladies, the she-friends of their lady.

And whiles they were about this, in cometh old Gerard himself, and when

Birdalone saw him at the door, she arose and ran to meet him, and cast

her arms about him as if she were his own daughter; and most joyful was

the meeting betwixt them.

CHAPTER IV.

OF THE ABIDING IN UTTERHAY IN LOVE AND CONTENTMENT.

Now when seven days were worn, the mayor made a great feast at his

house, and thither were bidden all the men of the porte and other

worthies, and great merchants who had come into their town; and the

said feast was given in honour of these new-comers, and that day they

sat on the dais, and all the guests worshipped them and wondered at

their beauty; and nought was spoken of for many days save the glory and

hope that there was in this lovely folk.

But the next day after the feast were they brought to their house in

all triumph; and it was as fair as might be thought of, and there they

dwelt a while in rest and peace, and great recourse there was there of

Gerard and his sons.

But ere the winter was over, were Hugh and Arthur and Gerard and his

sons taken to the freedom of Utterhay; and thereafter spake the chief

men of the porte and the masters of the crafts unto the two knights by

the mouth of the mayor; and he told them, what already they partly

knew, that the good town had of late gotten many enemies, whereas it

was wealthy and not very strong, and that now two such warriors having

come amongst them, they were minded to strengthen themselves, if only

they two would of their gentleness and meekness become their war-dukes

to lead them against the foemen. But the two friends answered that it

was well their will to dwell there neighbourly, and do them all the

help they might, and that they would not gainsay the worship they

offered them nor the work that should go with it.

With that answer were all men well content and more: and then the mayor

said that the mind of the porte it was to strengthen the walls and the

gates, and to build a good and fair castle, meet for any earl, joining

on to the wall by the face that looked west, that is to say, on to

Evilshaw; and that liked the war-dukes well.

So when spring came it was set about, but it was five years adoing, and

before it was all finished the war-dukes entered into it, and dwelt

there with their wives and their friends in all honour. And a little

thereafter, whether they would or no, the men of Utterhay had to handle

weapons and fare afield to meet the foe with the valiant men of the

crafts, and what of waged men they might get. And well and valiantly

were they led by their dukes, and they came to their above, and gained

both wealth and honour thereby; and from that time forward began the

increase of Utterhay under those two captains, who were unto them as in

old time the consuls had been unto the Roman folk, save that they

changed them not year by year as the Romans were wont.

So wore the days, and all those friends dwelt together in harmony and

joy; though the wearing of time wrought changes amongst them. For

Robert Gerardson began in no long while to look on Aurea with eyes of

love; and at last he came to Birdalone and craved her leave to woo the

said lady, and she granted it with a good will, and was fain thereof,

whereas she saw that Aurea sorely lacked a mate; and scarce might she

have a better than was Robert; so in process of time they two were

wedded and dwelt together happily.

Forsooth Birdalone had been fainer yet might she have seen Giles

Gerardson and Atra drawn together. But though they were dear friends

and there was much converse betwixt them, this betid not, so far as we

have heard.

The old Gerard dwelt happily amongst them all for fifteen years after

they had come to Utterhay, and then fell asleep, a very old man.

As to the wood of Evilshaw, it was not once a year only that Birdalone

and Arthur sought thither and met the wood-mother, but a half-score of

times or more, might be, in the year’s circle; and ever was she kind

and loving with them, and they with her.

But of all those fellows it was Atra that had longest dealings with the

wood-wife; for whiles would she leave Utterhay and her friends and fare

lonesome up into Evilshaw, and find Habundia and abide with her in all

kindness holden for a month or more. And ever a little before these

departures betid would she fall moody and few-spoken, but she came back

ever from the wood calm and kind and well-liking. Amidst all these

comings and goings somewhat wore off the terror of Evilshaw; yet never

was it accounted other than a daring deed to enter it alone without

fellowship; and most had liefer that some man of religion were of their

company therein, or they would bear about them something holy or

blessed to hold the evil things.

Now when all this hath been said, we have no more to tell about this

company of friends, the most of whom had once haunted the lands about

the Water of the Wondrous Isles, save that their love never sundered,

and that they lived without shame and died without fear. So here is an

end.

Printed by John Wilson and Son at the

University Press in Cambridge U.S.A.

The Water of the Wondrous Isles · 第 33 / 33 章