The carles looked askance at one another, but straightway opened the

gates, and Ralph and his company went forth, and abode the new-comers

on a little green mound half a bowshot from the Castle. Ralph sat down

on the grass and Ursula by him, and she said: "My heart tells me that

these Champions are no traitors, however rough and fierce they have

been, and still shall be if occasion serve. But O, sweetheart, how

dear and sweet is this sunlit greensward after yonder grim hold.

Surely, sweet, it shall never be our dwelling?"

"I wot not, beloved," said he; "must we not go and dwell where deeds

shall lead us? and the hand of Weird is mighty. But lo thou, here are

the newcomers to hand!"

So it was as he said, and presently the whole band came before them,

and they were all of the Dry Tree, stout men and well weaponed, and

they had ridden exceeding fast, so that their horses were somewhat

spent. A tall man very gallantly armed, who rode at their head, leapt

at once from his horse and came up to Ralph and hailed him, and Roger

and Stephen both made obeisance to him. Ralph, who had risen up,

hailed him in his turn, and the tall man said: "I am the Captain of

the Dry Tree for lack of a better; art thou Ralph of Upmeads, fair

sir?" "Even so," said Ralph.

Said the Captain: "Thou wilt marvel that I have ridden after thee on

the spur; so here is the tale shortly. Your backs were not turned on

the walls of the Burg an hour, ere three of my riders brought in to me

a man who said, and gave me tokens of his word being true, that he had

fallen in with a company of the old Burgers in the Wood Debateable,

which belike thou wottest of."

"All we of Upmeads wot of it," said Ralph. "Well," said the Captain,

"amongst these said Burgers, who were dwelling in the wildwood in

summer content, the word went free that they would gather to them other

bands of strong-thieves who haunt that wood, and go with them upon

Upmeads, and from Upmeads, when they were waxen strong, they would fall

upon Higham by the Way, and thence with yet more strength on their old

dwelling of the Burg. Now whereas I know that thou art of Upmeads, and

also what thou art, and what thou hast done, I have ridden after thee

to tell thee what is toward. But if thou deemest I have brought thee

all these riders it is not wholly so. For it was borne into my mind

that our old stronghold was left bare of men, and I knew not what might

betide; and that the more, as more than one man has told us how that

another band of the disinherited Burgers have fallen upon Higham or the

lands thereof, and Higham is no great way hence; so that some five

score of these riders are to hold our Castle of the Scaur, and the rest

are for thee to ride afield with. As for the others, thou hast been

told already that the Scaur, and Hampton therewith is a gift from us to

thee; for henceforward we be the lords of the Burg of the Four Friths,

and that is more than enough for us."

Ralph thanked the Captain for this, and did him to wit that he would

take the gift if he came back out the Upmeads fray alive: said he,

"With thee and the Wheat-wearers in the Burg, and me in the Scaur, no

strong-thief shall dare lift up his hand in these parts."

The Captain smiled, and Ralph went on: "And now I must needs ask thee

for leave to depart; which is all the more needful, whereas thy men

have over-ridden their horses, and we must needs go a soft pace till we

come to Higham."

"Yea, art thou for Higham, fair sir?" said the Captain. "That is well;

for ye may get men therefrom, and at the least it is like that ye shall

hear tidings: as to my men and their horses, this hath been looked to.

For five hundred good men of the Wheat-wearers, men who have not

learned the feat of arms a-horseback, are coming through the woods

hither to help ward thy castle, fair lord; they will be here in some

three hours' space and will bring horses for thy five score men,

therefore do ye but ride softly to Higham and if these sergeants catch

up with you it is well, but if not, abide them at Higham."

"Thanks have thou for this once more," said Ralph; "and now I have no

more word than this for thee; that I will come to thee at thy least

word, and serve thee with all that I have, to my very life if need be.

And yet I must say this, that I wot not why ye and these others are

become to me, who am alien to you, as very brothers." Said the

Captain: "There is this to be said of it, as was aforesaid, that all we

count thy winning of the Well at the World's End as valiancy in thee,

yea, and luck withal. But, moreover, she who was Our Lady would have

had thee for her friend had she lived, and how then could we be less

than friends to thee? Depart in peace, my friend, and we look to see

thee again in a little while."

Therewith he kissed him, and bade farewell; and Ralph bade his band to

horse, and they were in the saddle in a twinkling, and rode away from

Hampton at a soft pace.

But as they went, Ralph turned to Ursula and said: "And now belike

shall we see Bourton Abbas once more, and the house where first I saw

thee. And O how sweet thou wert! And I was so happy and so young."

"Yea," she said, "and sorely I longed for thee, and now we have long

been together, as it seemeth; and yet that long space shall be but a

little while of our lives. But, my friend, as to Bourton Abbas, I

misdoubt me of our seeing it; for there is a nigher road by the by-ways

to Higham, which these men know, and doubtless that way we shall wend:

and I am glad thereof; for I shall tell thee, that somewhat I fear that

thorp, lest it should lay hold of me, and wake me from a dream."

"Yea," said Ralph, "but even then, belike thou shouldst find me beside

thee; as if I had fallen asleep in the ale-house, and dreamed of the

Well at the World's End, and then awoke and seen the dear barefoot

maiden busying her about her house and its matters. That were naught

so ill."

"Ah," she said, "look round on thy men, and think of the might of war

that is in them, and think of the deeds to come. But O how I would

that these next few days were worn away, and we yet alive for a long

while."

CHAPTER 20

They Come to the Gate of Higham By the Way

It was as Ursula had deemed, and they made for Higham by the shortest

road, so that they came before the gate a little before sunset: to the

very gate they came not; for there were strong barriers before it, and

men-at-arms within them, as though they were looking for an onfall.

And amongst these were bowmen who bended their bows on Ralph and his

company. So Ralph stayed his men, and rode up to the barriers with

Richard and Stephen a-Hurst, all three of them bare-headed with their

swords in the sheaths; and Stephen moreover bearing a white cloth on a

truncheon. Then a knight of the town, very bravely armed, came forth

from the barriers and went up to Ralph, and said: "Fair sir, art thou

a knight?" "Yea," said Ralph. Said the knight, "Who be ye?" "I hight

Ralph of Upmeads," said Ralph, "and these be my men: and we pray thee

for guesting in the town of my Lord Abbot to-night, and leave to depart

to-morrow betimes."

"O unhappy young man," said the knight, "meseems these men be not so

much thine as thou art theirs; for they are of the Dry Tree, and bear

their token openly. Wilt thou then lodge thy company of strong-thieves

with honest men?"

Stephen a-Hurst laughed roughly at this word, but Ralph said mildly:

"These men are indeed of the Dry Tree, but they are my men and under my

rule, and they be riding on my errands, which be lawful."

The knight was silent a while and then he said: "Well, it may be so;

but into this town they come not, for the tale of them is over long for

honest men to hearken to."

Even as he spake, a man-at-arms somewhat evilly armed shoved through

the barriers, thrusting aback certain of his fellows, and, coming up to

Ralph, stood staring up into his face with the tears starting into his

eyes. Ralph looked a moment, and then reached down his arms to embrace

him, and kissed his face; for lo! it was his own brother Hugh. Withal

he whispered in his ear: "Get thee behind us, Hugh, if thou wilt come

with us, lad." So Hugh passed on quietly toward the band, while Ralph

turned to the knight again, who said to him, "Who is that man?" "He is

mine own brother," said Ralph. "Be he the brother of whom he will,"

said the knight, "he was none the less our sworn man. Ye fools," said

he, turning toward the men in the barrier, "why did ye not slay him?"

"He slipped out," said they, "before we wotted what he was about." Said

the knight, "Where were your bows, then?"

Said a man: "They were pressing so hard on the barrier, that we could

not draw a bowstring. Besides, how might we shoot him without hitting

thee, belike?"

The knight turned toward Ralph, grown wroth and surly, and that the

more he saw Stephen and Richard grinning; he said: "Fair sir, ye have

strengthened the old saw that saith, Tell me what thy friends are, and

I will tell thee what thou art. Thou hast stolen our man with not a

word on it."

"Fair sir," said Ralph, "meseemeth thou makest more words than enough

about it. Shall I buy my brother of thee, then? I have a good few

pieces in my pouch." The captain shook his head angrily.

"Well," said Ralph, "how can I please thee, fair sir?"

Quoth the knight: "Thou canst please me best by turning thy horses'

heads away from Higham, all the sort of you." He stepped back toward

the barriers, and then came forward again, and said: "Look you,

man-at-arms, I warn thee that I trust thee not, and deem that thou

liest. Now have I mind to issue out and fall upon you: for ye shall be

evil guests in my Lord Abbot's lands."

Now at last Ralph waxed somewhat wroth, and he said: "Come out then, if

you will, and we shall meet you man for man; there is yet light on this

lily lea, and we will do so much for thee, churl though thou be."

But as he spoke, came the sounds of horns, and lo, over the bent showed

the points of spears, and then all those five-score of the Dry Tree

whom the captain had sent after Ralph came pouring down the bent. The

knight looked on them under the sharp of his hand, till he saw the Dry

Tree on their coats also, and then he turned and gat him hastily into

the barriers; and when he was amongst his own men he fell to roaring

out a defiance to Ralph, and a bolt flew forth, and two or three

shafts, but hurt no one. Richard and Stephen drew their swords, but

Ralph cried out: "Come away, friends, tarry not to bicker with these

fools, who are afraid of they know not what: it is but lying under the

naked heaven to-night instead of under the rafters, but we have all

lodged thus a many times: and we shall be nigher to our journey's end

to-morrow when we wake up."

Therewith he turned his horse with Richard and Stephen and came to his

own men. There was much laughter and jeering at the Abbot's men amidst

of the Dry Tree, both of those who had ridden with Ralph, and the

new-comers; but they arrayed them to ride further in good order, and

presently were skirting the walls of Higham out of bow-shot, and making

for the Down country by the clear of the moon. The sergeants had

gotten a horse for Hugh, and by Ralph's bidding he rode beside him as

they went their ways, and the two brethren talked together lovingly.

CHAPTER 21

Talk Between Those Two Brethren

Ralph asked Hugh first if he wotted aught of Gregory their brother.

Hugh laughed and pointed to Higham, and said: "He is yonder." "What,"

said Ralph, "in the Abbot's host?" "Yea," said Hugh, laughing again,

"but in his spiritual, not his worldly host: he is turned monk,

brother; that is, he is already a novice, and will be a brother of the

Abbey in six months' space." Said Ralph: "And Launcelot Long-tongue,

thy squire, how hath he sped?" Said Hugh: "He is yonder also, but in

the worldly host, not the spiritual: he is a sergeant of theirs, and

somewhat of a catch for them, for he is no ill man-at-arms, as thou

wottest, and besides he adorneth everything with words, so that men

hearken to him gladly." "But tell me," said Ralph, "how it befalleth

that the Abbot's men of war be so churlish, and chary of the inside of

their town; what have they to fear? Is not the Lord Abbot still a

mighty man?" Hugh shook his head: "There hath been a change of days at

Higham; though I say not but that the knights are over careful, and

much over fearful." "What has the change been?" said Ralph. Hugh

said: "In time past my Lord Abbot was indeed a mighty man, and both

this town of Higham was well garnished of men-at-arms, and also many of

his manors had castles and strong-houses on them, and the yeomen were

ready to run to their weapons whenso the gathering was blown. In

short, Higham was as mighty as it was wealthy; and the Abbot's men had

naught to do with any, save with thy friends here who bear the Tree

Leafless; all else feared those holy walls and the well-blessed men who

warded them. But the Dry Tree feared, as men said, neither man nor

devil (and I hope it may be so still since they are become thy

friends), and they would whiles lift in the Abbot's lands when they had

no merrier business on hand, and not seldom came to their above in

their dealings with his men. But all things come to an end; for, as I

am told, some year and a half ago, the Abbot had debate with the

Westland Barons, who both were and are ill men to deal with, being both

hungry and doughty. The quarrel grew till my Lord must needs defy

them, and to make a long tale short, he himself in worldly armour led

his host against them, and they met some twenty miles to the west in

the field of the Wry Bridge, and there was Holy Church overthrown; and

the Abbot, who is as valiant a man as ever sang mass, though not

over-wise in war, would not flee, and as none would slay him, might

they help it, they had to lead him away, and he sits to this day in

their strongest castle, the Red Mount west-away. Well, he being gone,

and many of his wisest warriors slain, the rest ran into gates again;

but when the Westlanders beset Higham and thought to have it good

cheap, the monks and their men warded it not so ill but that the

Westlanders broke their teeth over it. Forsooth, they turned away

thence and took most of the castles and strong-houses of the Abbot's

lands; burned some and put garrisons into others, and drave away a

mighty spoil of chattels and men and women, so that the lands of Higham

are half ruined; and thereby the monks, though they be stout enough

within their walls, will not suffer their men to ride abroad. Whereby,

being cooped up in a narrow place, and with no deeds to hand to cheer

their hearts withal, they are grown sour and churlish."

"But, brother," said Ralph, "howsoever churlish they may be, and howso

timorous, I cannot see why they should shut their gates in our faces, a

little band, when there is no foe anear them."

"Ralph," said Hugh, "thou must think of this once more, that the Dry

Tree is no good let-pass to flourish in honest men's faces; specialiter

if they be monks. Amongst the brothers of Higham the tale goes that

those Champions have made covenant with the devil to come to their

above whensoever they be not more than one to five. Nay, moreover, it

is said that there be very devils amongst them; some in the likeness of

carles, and some (God help us) dressed up in women's flesh; and fair

flesh also, meseemeth. Also to-day they say in Higham that no

otherwise might they ever have overcome the stark and cruel carles of

the Burg of the Four Friths and chased them out of their town, as we

know they have done. Hah! what sayest thou?"

"I say, Hugh," quoth Ralph angrily, "that thou art a fool to go about

with a budget of slanderous old wives' tales." Hugh laughed. "Be not

so wroth, little lord, or I shall be asking thee tales of marvels also.

But hearken. I shall smooth out thy frowns with a smile when thou hast

heard this: this folk are not only afeard of their old enemies, the

devil-led men, but also they fear those whom the devil-led men have

driven out of house and home, to wit, the Burgers. Yet again they fear

the Burgers yet more, because they have beaten some of the very foes of

Higham, to wit, the Westland Barons; for they have taken from them some

of their strong-holds, and are deemed to be gathering force."

Ralph pondered a while, and then he said: "Brother, hast thou any

tidings of Upmeads, or that these Burgers have gone down thither?" "God

forbid!" said Hugh. "Nay, I have had no tidings of Upmeads since I was

fool enough to leave it."

"What! brother," said Ralph, "thou hast not thriven then?"

"I have had ups and downs," said Hugh, "but the ups have been one rung

of the ladder, and the downs three--or more. Three months I sat in

prison for getting me a broken head in a quarrel that concerned me not.

Six months was I besieged in a town whither naught led me but ill-luck.

Two days I wore in running thence, having scaled the wall and swam the

ditch in the night. Three months I served squire to a knight who gave

me the business of watching his wife of whom he was jealous; and to

help me out of the weariness of his house I must needs make love myself

to the said wife, who sooth to say was perchance worth it. Thence

again I went by night and cloud. Ten months I wore away at the edge of

the wildwood, and sometimes in it, with a sort of fellows who taught me

many things, but not how to keep my hands from other men's goods when I

was hungry. There was I taken with some five others by certain

sergeants of Higham, whom the warriors of the town had sent out

cautiously to see if they might catch a few men for their ranks. Well,

they gave me the choice of the gallows-tree or service for the Church,

and so, my choice made, there have I been ever since, till I saw thy

face this evening, fair sir."

"Well, brother," said Ralph, "all that shall be amended, and thou shalt

back to Upmeads with me. Yet wert thou to amend thyself somewhat, it

might not be ill."

Quoth Hugh: "It shall be tried, brother. But may I ask thee

somewhat?" Said Ralph: "Ask on." "Fair Sir," said Hugh, "thou

seemedst grown into a pretty man when I saw thee e'en-now before this

twilight made us all alike; but the men at thy back are not wont to be

led by men who have not earned a warrior's name, yet they follow thee:

how cometh that about? Again, before the twilight gathered I saw the

woman that rideth anigh us (who is now but a shadow) how fair and

gentle she is: indeed there is no marvel in her following thee (though

if she be an earl's daughter she is a fair getting for an imp of

Upmeads), for thou art a well shapen lad, little lord, and carriest a

sweet tongue in thy mouth. But tell me, what is she?"

"Brother," said Ralph kindly, "she is my wife."

"I kiss her hands," said Hugh; "but of what lineage is she?"

"She is my wife," said Ralph. Said Hugh: "That is, forsooth, a high

dignity." Said Ralph: "Thou sayest sooth, though in mockery thou

speakest, which is scarce kind to thine own mother's son: but learn,

brother, that I am become a Friend of the Well, and were meet to wed

with the daughters of the best of the Kings: yet is this one meeter to

wed with me than the highest of the Queens; for she also is a Friend of

the Well. Moreover, thou sayest it that the champions of the Dry Tree,

who would think but little of an earl for a leader, are eager to follow

me: and if thou still doubt what this may mean, abide, till in two days

or three thou see me before the foeman. Then shalt thou tell me how

much changed I am from the stripling whom thou knewest in Upmeads a

little while ago."

Then was Hugh somewhat abashed, and he said: "I crave thy pardon,

brother, but never had I a well filed tongue, and belike it hath grown

no smoother amid the hard haps which have befallen me of late. Besides

it was dull in there, and I must needs try to win a little mirth out of

kith and kin."

"So be it, lad," quoth Ralph kindly, "thou didst ask and I told, and

all is said."

"Yet forsooth," said Hugh, "thou hast given me marvel for marvel,

brother." "Even so," said Ralph, "and hereafter I will tell thee more

when we sit safe by the wine at Upmeads."

Now cometh back one of the fore-riders and draweth rein by Ralph and

saith that they are hard on a little thorp under the hanging of the

hill that was the beginning of the Down country on that road. So Ralph

bade make stay there and rest the night over, and seek new tidings on

the morrow; and the man told Ralph that the folk of the thorp were

fleeing fast at the tidings of their company, and that it were best

that he and some half score should ride sharply into the thorp, so that

it might not be quite bare of victuals when they came to their night's

lodging. Ralph bids him so do, but to heed well that he hurt no man,

or let fire get into any house or roof; so he takes his knot of men and

rides off on the spur, and Ralph and the main of them come on quietly;

and when they came into the street of the thorp, lo there by the cross

a big fire lighted, and the elders standing thereby cap in hand, and a

score of stout carles with weapons in their hands. Then the chief man

came up to Ralph and greeted him and said: "Lord, when we heard that an

armed company was at hand we deemed no less than that the riders of the

Burg were upon us, and deemed that there was nought for it but to flee

each as far and as fast as he might. But now we have heard that thou

art a good lord seeking his own with the help of worthy champions, and

a foeman to those devils of the Burg, we bid thee look upon us and all

we have as thine, lord, and take kindly such guesting as we may give

thee."

The old man's voice quavered a little as he looked on the stark shapes

of the Dry Tree; but Ralph looked kindly on him, and said: "Yea, my

master, we will but ask for a covering for our heads, and what victual

thou mayst easily spare us in return for good silver, and thou shalt

have our thanks withal. But who be these stout lads with staves and

bucklers, or whither will they to-night?"

Thereat a tall young man with a spear in his hand and girt with a short

sword came forth and said boldly: "Lord, we be a few who thought when

we heard that the Burg-devils were at hand that we might as well die in

the field giving stroke for stroke, as be hauled off and drop to pieces

under the hands of their tormentors; and now thou hast come, we have

little will to abide behind, but were fain to follow thee, and do thee

what good we can: and after thou hast come to thine above, when we go

back to our kin thou mayst give us a gift if it please thee: but we

deem that no great matter if thou but give us leave to have the comfort

of thee and thy Champions for a while in these hard days."

When he had done speaking there rose up from the Champions a hum as of

praise, and Ralph was well-pleased withal, deeming it a good omen; so

he said: "Fear not, good fellows, that I shall forget you when we have

overcome the foemen, and meanwhile we will live and die together. But

thou, ancient man, show our sergeants where our riders shall lie

to-night, and what they shall do with their horses."

So the elders marshalled the little host to their abodes for that

night, lodging the more part of them in a big barn on the western

outskirt of the thorp. The elder who led them thither, brought them

victual and good drink, and said to them: "Lords, ye were best to keep

a good watch to-night because it is on this side that we may look for

an onfall from the foemen if they be abroad to-night; and sooth to say

that is one cause we have bestowed you here, deeming that ye would not

grudge us the solace of knowing that your valiant bodies were betwixt

us and them, for we be a poor unwalled people."

Stephen to whom he spake laughed at his word, and said: "Heart-up,

carle! within these few days we shall build up a better wall than ye

may have of stone and lime; and that is the overthrow of our foemen in

the open field."

So there was kindness and good fellowship betwixt the thorp-dwellers

and the riders, and the country folk told those others many tales of

the evil deeds of the Burg-devils, as they called them; but they could

not tell them for certain whether they had gone down into Upmeads.

As to Ralph and Ursula they, with Richard and Roger, were lodged in the

headman's house, and had good feast there, and he also talked over the

where-abouts of the Burgers with the thorp-dwellers, but might have no

certain tidings. So he and Ursula and his fellows went to bed and

slept peacefully for the first hours of the night.

CHAPTER 22

An Old Acquaintance Comes From the Down Country to See Ralph

But an hour after midnight Ralph arose, as his purpose was, and called

Richard, and they took their swords and went forth and about the thorp

and around its outskirts, and found naught worse than their own watch

any where; so they came back again to their quarters and found Roger

standing at the door, who said to Ralph: "Lord, here is a man who

would see thee." "What like is he?" said Ralph. Said Roger "He is an

old man, but a tough one; however, I have got his weapons from him."

"Bring him in," said Ralph, "and he shall have his say."

So they all went into the chamber together and there was light therein;

but the man said to Ralph: "Art thou the Captain of the men-at-arms,

lord?" "Yea," said Ralph. Said the man, "I were as lief have these

others away." "So be it," said Ralph; "depart for a little while,

friends." So they went but Ursula lay in the bed, which was in a nook

in the wall; the man looked about the chamber and said: "Is there any

one in the bed?" "Yea," said Ralph, "my wife, good fellow; shall she go

also?" "Nay," said the carle, "we shall do as we are now. So I will

begin my tale."

Ralph looked on him and deemed he had seen him before, but could not

altogether call his visage to mind; so he held his peace and the man

went on.

"I am of the folk of the shepherds of the Downs: we be not a many by

count of noses, but each one of us who is come to man's yean, and many

who be past them, as I myself, can handle weapons at a pinch. Now some

deal we have been harried and have suffered by these wretches who have

eaten into the bowels of this land; that is to say, they have lifted

our sheep, and slain some of us who withstood them: but whereas our

houses be uncostly and that we move about easily from one hill-side to

another, it is like that we should have deemed it wisest to have borne

this trouble, like others of wind and weather, without seeking new

remedy, but that there have been tokens on earth and in the heavens,

whereof it is too long to tell thee, lord, at present, which have

stirred up our scattered folk to meet together in arms. Moreover, the

blood of our young men is up, because the Burg-devils have taken some

of our women, and have mishandled them grievously and shamefully, so

that naught will keep point and edge from seeking the war-clash.

Furthermore, there is an old tale which hath now come up again, That

some time when our folk shall be in great need, there shall come to our

helping one from afar, whose home is anigh; a stripling and a great

man; a runaway, and the conqueror of many: then, say they, shall the

point and the edge bring the red water down on the dear dales; whereby

we understand that the blood of men shall be shed there, and naught to

our shame or dishonour. Again I mind me of a rhyme concerning this

which sayeth:

The Dry Tree shall be seen

On the green earth, and green

The Well-spring shall arise

For the hope of the wise.

They are one which were twain,

The Tree bloometh again,

And the Well-spring hath come

From the waste to the home.

Well, lord, thou shalt tell me presently if this hath aught to do with

thee: for indeed I saw the Dry Tree, which hath scared us so many a

time, beaten on thy sergeants' coats; but now I will go on and make an

end of my story."

Ralph nodded to him kindly, for now he remembered the carle, though he

had seen him but that once when he rode the Greenway across the downs

to Higham. The old man looked up at him as if he too had an inkling of

old acquaintance with Ralph, but went on presently:

"There is a woman who dwells alone with none to help her, anigh to

Saint Ann's Chapel; a woman not very old; for she is of mine own age,

and time was we have had many a fair play in the ingles of the downs in

the July weather--not very old, I say, but wondrous wise, as I know

better than most men; for oft, even when she was young, would she

foretell things to come to me, and ever it fell out according to her

spaedom. To the said woman I sought to-day in the morning, not to win

any wisdom of her, but to talk over remembrances of old days; but when

I came into her house, lo, there was my carline walking up and down the

floor, and she turned round upon me like the young woman of past days,

and stamped her foot and cried out: 'What does the sluggard dallying

about women's chambers when the time is come for the deliverance?'

"I let her talk, and spake no word lest I should spoil her story, and

she went on:

"'Take thy staff, lad, for thou art stout as well as merry, and go

adown to the thorps at the feet of the downs toward Higham; keep thee

well from the Burg-devils, and go from stead to stead till thou comest

on a captain of men-at-arms who is lord over a company of green-coats,

green-coats of the Dry Tree--a young lord, fair-faced, and kind-faced,

and mighty, and not to be conquered, and the blessing of the folk and

the leader of the Shepherds, and the foe of their foeman and the

well-beloved of Bear-father. Go night and day, sit not down to eat,

stand not to drink; heed none that crieth after thee for deliverance,

but go, go, go till thou hast found him. Meseems I see him riding

toward Higham, but those dastards will not open gate to him, of that be

sure. He shall pass on and lie to-night, it may be at Mileham, it may

be at Milton, it may be at Garton; at one of those thorps shall ye find

him. And when ye have found him thus bespeak him: O bright Friend of

the Well, turn not aside to fall on the Burgers in this land, either at

Foxworth Castle, or the Longford, or the Nineways Garth: all that thou

mayest do hereafter, thou or thy champions. There be Burgers

otherwhere, housed in no strong castle, but wending the road toward the

fair greensward of Upmeads. If thou delay to go look on them, then

shall thy work be to begin again amid sorrow of heart and loss that may

not be remedied.' Hast thou heard me, lord?"

"Yea, verily," said Ralph, "and at sunrise shall we be in the saddle to

ride straight to Upmeads. For I know thee, friend."

"Hold a while," said the carle, "for meseemeth I know thee also. But

this withal she said: 'But hearken, Giles, hearken a while, for I see

him clearly, and the men that he rideth with, and the men that are

following to his aid, fierce and fell are they; but so withal are the

foemen that await them, and his are few, howsoever fierce. Therefore

bid him this also. Haste, haste, haste! But haste not overmuch, lest

thou speed the worse: in Bear Castle I see a mote of our folk, and

thee amidst of it with thy champions, and I see the staves of the

Shepherds rising round thee like a wood. In Wulstead I see a valiant

man with sword by side and sallet on head, and with him sitteth a tall

man-at-arms grizzle-headed and red-bearded, big-boned and mighty; they

sit at the wine in a fair chamber, and a well-looking dame serveth

them; and there are weaponed men no few about the streets. Wilt thou

pass by friends, and old friends? Now ride on, Green Coats! stride

forth, Shepherds! staves on your shoulders, Wool-wards! and there goes

the host over the hills into Upmeads, and the Burg-devils will have

come from the Wood Debateable to find graves by the fair river. And

then do thy will, O Friend of the Well.'"

The carle took a breath, and then he said: "Lord, this is the say I

was charged with, and if thou understandest it, well; but if it be dark

to thee, I may make it clear if thou ask me aught."

Ralph pondered a while, and then he said: "Is it known of others than

thy spaewife that the Burgers be in Upmeads?" "Nay, lord," said the

carle, "and this also I say to thee, that I deem what she said that

they be not in Upmeads yet, and but drawing thitherward, as I deem from

the Wood Debateable."

Ralph arose from his seat and strode up and down the chamber a while;

then he went to bed, and stood over Ursula, who lay twixt sleeping and

waking, for she was weary; then he came back to the carle, and said to

him: "Good friend, I thank thee, and this is what I shall do: when

daylight is broad (and lo, the dawn beginning!) I shall gather my men,

and ride the shortest way, which thou shalt show me, to Bear Castle,

and there I shall give the token of the four fires which erewhile a

good man of the Shepherds bade me if I were in need. And it seems to

me that there shall the mote be hallowed, though it may be not before

nightfall. But the mote done, we shall wend, the whole host of us, be

we few or many, down to Wulstead, where we shall fall in with my friend

Clement Chapman, and hear tidings. Thence shall we wend the dear ways

I know into the land where I was born and the folk amongst whom I shall

die. And so let St. Nicholas and All Hallows do as they will with us.

Deemest thou, friend, that this is the meaning of thy wise she-friend?"

The carle's eyes glittered, and he rose up and stood close by Ralph,

and said: "Even so she meant; and now I seem to see that but few of

thy riders shall be lacking when they turn their heads away from

Upmeads towards the strong-places of the Burg-devils that are

hereabouts. But tell me, Captain of the host, is that victual and

bread that I see on the board?"

Ralph laughed: "Fall to, friend, and eat thy fill; and here is wine

withal. Thou needest not to fear it. Wert thou any the worse of the

wine that Thirly poured into thee that other day?"

"Nay, nay, master," said the carle between his mouthfuls, "but mickle

the better, as I shall be after this: all luck to thee! Yet see I

that I need not wish thee luck, since that is thine already. Sooth to

say, I deemed I knew thee when I first set eyes on thee again. I

looked not to see thee more; though I spoke to thee words at that time

which came from my heart, almost without my will. Though it is but a

little while ago, thou hast changed much since then, and hast got

another sort of look in the eyes than then they had. Nay, nay," said

he laughing, "not when thou lookest on me so frankly and kindly; that

is like thy look when we passed Thirly about. Yea, I see the fashion

of it: one look is for thy friends, another for thy foes. God be

praised for both. And now I am full, I will go look on thy wife."

So he went up to the bed and stood over Ursula, while she, who was not

fully awake, smiled up into his face. The old man smiled back at her

and bent down and kissed her mouth, and said: "I ask thy pardon, lady,

and thine, my lord, if I be too free, but such is our custom of the

Downs; and sooth to say thy face is one that even a old man should not

fail to kiss if occasion serve, so that he may go to paradise with the

taste thereof on his lips."

"We are nowise hurt by thy love, friend," said Ursula; "God make thy

latter days of life sweet to thee!"

CHAPTER 23

They Ride to Bear Castle

But while they spake thus and were merry, the dawn had wellnigh passed

into daylight. Then Ralph bade old Giles sleep for an hour, and went

forth and called Roger and Richard and went to the great barn. There

he bade the watch wake up Stephen and all men, and they gat to horse as

speedily as they might, and were on the road ere the sun was fully up.

The spearmen of the thorp did not fail them, and numbered twenty and

three all told. Giles had a horse given him and rode the way by Ralph.

They rode up and down the hills and dales, but went across country and

not by the Greenway, for thuswise the road was shorter.

But when they had gone some two leagues, and were nigh on top of a

certain low green ridge, they deemed that they heard men's voices anigh

and the clash of arms; and it must be said that by Ralph's rede they

journeyed somewhat silently. So Ralph, who was riding first with

Giles, bid all stay and let the crown of the ridge cover them. So did

they, and Giles gat off his horse and crept on to the top of the ridge

till he could see down to the dale below. Presently he came down again

the old face of him puckered with mirth, and said softly to Ralph: "Did

I not say thou wert lucky? here is the first fruits thereof. Ride over

the ridge, lord, at once, and ye shall have what there is of them as

safe as a sheep in a penfold."

So Ralph drew sword and beckoned his men up, and they all handled their

weapons and rode over the brow, and tarried not one moment there, not

even to cry their cries; for down in the bottom were a sort of men, two

score and six (as they counted them afterward) sitting or lying about a

cooking fire, or loitering here and there, with their horses standing

behind them, and they mostly unhelmed. The Champions knew them at once

for men of their old foes, and there was scarce time for a word ere the

full half of them had passed by the sword of the Dry Tree; then Ralph

cried out to spare the rest, unless they offered to run; so the foemen

cast down their weapons and stood still, and were presently brought

before Ralph, who sat on the grass amidst of the ring of the Champions.

He looked on them a while and remembered the favour of those whom he

had seen erewhile in the Burg; but ere he could speak Giles said softly

in his ear: "These be of the Burg, forsooth, as ye may see by their

dogs' faces; but they be not clad nor armed as those whom we have met

heretofore. Ask them whence they be, lord."

Ralph spake and said: "Whence and whither are ye, ye manslayers?" But

no man of them answered. Then said Ralph: "Pass these murderers by

the edge of the sword, Stephen; unless some one of them will save his

life and the life of his fellows by speaking."

As he spake, one of the youngest of the men hung down his head a

little, and then raised it up: "Wilt thou spare our lives if I speak?"

"Yea," said Ralph. "Wilt thou swear it by the edge of the blade?" said

the man. Ralph drew forth his sword and said: "Lo then! I swear it."

The man nodded his head, and said: "Few words are best; and whereas I

wot not if my words will avail thee aught, and since they will save our

lives, I will tell thee truly. We are men of the Burg whom these

green-coated thieves drave out of the Burg on an unlucky day. Well,

some of us, of whom I was one, fetched a compass and crossed the water

that runneth through Upmeads by the Red Bridge, and so gat us into the

Wood Debateable through the Uplands. There we struck a bargain with

the main band of strong-thieves of the wood, that we and they together

would get us a new home in Upmeads, which is a fat and pleasant land.

So we got us ready; but the Woodmen told us that the Upmeads carles,

though they be not many, are strong and dauntless, and since we now had

pleasant life before us, with good thralls to work for us, and with

plenty of fair women for our bed-mates, we deemed it best to have the

most numbers we might, so that we might over-whelm the said carles at

one blow, and get as few of ourselves slain as might be. Now we knew

that another band of us had entered the lands of the Abbot of Higham,

and had taken hold of some of his castles; wherefore the captains

considered and thought, and sent us to give bidding to our folk south

here to march at once toward us in Upmeads, that our bands might meet

there, and scatter all before us. There is our story, lord."

Ralph knitted his brow, and said: "Tell me (and thy life lieth on thy

giving true answers), do thy folk in these strongholds know of your

purpose of falling upon Upmeads?" "Nay," said the Burger. Said Ralph:

"And will they know otherwise if ye do them not to wit?" "Nay," again

said the man. Said Ralph: "Are thy folk already in Upmeads?" "Nay,"

said the captive, "but by this time they will be on the road thither."

"How many all told?" said Ralph The man reddened and stammered: "A

thousand--two--two thousand--A thousand, lord," said he. "Get thy

sword ready, Stephen," said Ralph. "How many, on thy life, Burger?"

"Two thousand, lord," said the man. "And how many do ye look to have

from Higham-land?" Said the Burger, "Somewhat more than a thousand."

Withal he looked uneasily at his fellows, some of whom were scowling on

him felly. "Tell me now," said Ralph, "where be the other bands of the

Burgers?"

Ere the captive could speak, he who stood next him snatched an

unsheathed knife from the girdle of one of the Dry Tree, and quick as

lightning thrust it into his fellow's belly, so that he fell dead at

once amongst them. Then Stephen, who had his sword naked in his hand,

straightway hewed down the slayer, and swords came out of the scabbards

everywhere; and it went but a little but that all the Burgers were

slain at once. But Ralph cried out: "Put up your swords, Champions!

Stephen slew yonder man for slaying his fellow, who was under my ward,

and that was but his due. But I have given life to these others, and

so it must be held to. Tie their hands behind them and let us on to

Bear Castle. For this tide brooks no delay."

So they gat to horse, and the footmen from Garton mounted the horses of

the slain Burgers, and had the charge of guarding the twenty that were

left. So they rode off all of them toward Bear Castle, and shortly to

say it, came within sight of its rampart two hours before noon. Sooner

had they came thither; but divers times they caught up with small

companies of weaponed men, whose heads were turned the same way; and

Giles told Ralph each time that they were of the Shepherd-folk going to

the mote. But now when they were come so nigh to the castle they saw a

very stream of men setting that way, and winding up the hill to the

rampart. And Giles said: "It is not to be doubted but that Martha

hath sent round the war-brand, and thou wilt presently have an host

that will meet thy foemen without delay; and what there lacks in number

shall be made good by thy luck, which once again was shown by our

falling in with that company e'en now."

"Yea truly," said Ralph, "but wilt thou now tell me how I shall guide

myself amongst thy folk, and if they will grant me the aid I ask?"

"Look, look," said Giles, "already some one hath made clear thine

asking to our folk; and hearken! up there they are naming the ancient

Father of our Race, without whom we may do nought, even with the

blessed saints to aid. There then is thine answer, lord."

Indeed as he spoke came down on the wind the voice of a chant, sung by

many folk, the words whereof he well remembered: SMITE ASIDE AXE, O

BEAR-FATHER. And therewith rose up into the air a column of smoke

intermingled with fire from each of the four corners of that stronghold

of the Ancient Folk. Ralph rejoiced when he saw it, and the heart rose

within him and fluttered in his bosom, and Ursula, who rode close

behind him, looked up into his face well pleased and happy.

Thus rode they up the bent and over the turf bridge into the plain of

the garth, and whatso of people were there flocked about to behold the

new-come warriors; sooth to say, there were but some two hundreds, who

looked but few indeed in the great square place, but more were

streaming in every minute. Giles led him and his men into the

north-east corner of the castle, and there they gat off their horses

and lay down on the grass awaiting what should betide.

CHAPTER 24

The Folkmote of the Shepherds

In about an hour all the folk within the castle began to set toward the

ingle wherein lay Ralph and his fellows, and then all rose up, while

the folk of the Shepherds took their places on the slopes of the earth

walls, but on the top hard by the fire, which was still burning, stood

up an old hoar man with a beard exceeding long; he had a sallet on his

head, and held a guisarme in his hand. All men held their peace when

they saw him standing there; and straightway he proclaimed the

hallowing of the Mote in such form of words as was due amongst that

folk, and which were somewhat long to tell here. Then was silence

again for a little, and then the old man spake: "Few words are best

to-day, neighbours; for wherefore are we met together?" There arose a

hum of assent from the Shepherds as he spoke and men clashed their

weapons together; but none said any clear word. Then spake the old

man: "We be met together because we have trouble on hand, and because

there is a helper to hand, of whom the words of the wise and tales of

old have told us; and because as he shall help us, so shall we help

him, since indeed our trouble is his also: now, neighbours, shall I say

the word for you which ye would say to this young man, who is

nevertheless old in wisdom, and true-hearted and kind?"

Then came the hum of yeasay again, the clashing of weapons, and the old

man spake again: "Ralph of Upmeads, there thou standest, wilt thou

help us against the tyrants, as we shall help thee?"

"Yea," said Ralph. Said the Elder: "Wilt thou be our Captain, if we

do according to thy bidding? For thou needest not fear our failing

thee."

"Yea verily," said Ralph.

Said the Elder: "Ralph of Upmeads, wilt thou be our Captain as an

alien and a hireling, or as a brother?"

"As a brother," quoth Ralph.

"Come up here then, Captain of our folk, and take my hand in thine, and

swear by our fathers and thine to be a true brother of us, and take

this ancient staff of war in thine hand. And, ye kindred of the

Shepherds, bear witness of his swearing. Yea and ye also, O neighbours

of the Dry Tree!"

So Ralph went up on the wall-top and took the Elder's hand, and took

from him the ancient guisarme, which was inlaid with gold letters of

old time; and he swore in a loud voice to be a true brother of the

Shepherd-folk, and raised the weapon aloft and shook it strongly, and

all the Folk cried, "Hail our brother!" and the Champions shouted

gladly withal, and great joy there was in that ingle of the ancient

work.

Then spake the Elder and said: "Ye champions of the Dry Tree, will ye

wend with us under the Captain our brother against his foemen and ours?"

Then stood forth Stephen a-Hurst and said, "Master shepherd, for nought

else are we come hither."

Said the Elder: "Will ye come with us as friends or as hirelings? for

in any case we would have you by our sides, and not in face of us; and

though we be shepherds, and unhoused, or ill-housed, yet have we

wherewithal to wage you, as ye know well enough, who have whiles lifted

our gear."

Then Stephen laughed and said: "True it is that we have whiles driven

prey in your country, yea, and had some hard knocks therein; but all

that was in playing the game of war, and now since we are to fight side

by side, we will be paid by our foes and not by our friends; so neither

hair nor wool will we have of yours, whatever we may have of the

Burgers; and it is like that we shall be good friends of yours

hence-forward."

Once more all they that were there shouted. But once more the Elder

spoke and said: "Is any man now wishful to speak?" None answered till

a big and burly man rose up and said: "Nay, Tall Thomas, thou hast said

and done all that need was, and I deem that time presses; wherefore my

mind is that we now break up this mote, and that after we have eaten a

morsel we get ourselves into due array and take to the road. Now let

any man speak against this if he will."

None gainsaid him; nay, all seemed well-pleased. So the Elder

proclaimed the breaking up of the mote, and they went from out the

hallowed place and sat down in the dyke on the outside of the rampart

and behind the country which stretched out all lovely and blue before

them, for the day was bright and fair. There then certain women

brought victual and drink to them, and served the strangers first.

So when they had eaten and drunk, Ralph bade the Shepherds array them

duly, and appointed them leaders of tens and hundreds with the help of

Giles, who was now clad in a hauberk and mail-coif and looked a proper

man-at-arms. Then they told over their company, and numbered of the

Dry Tree one hundred and fifty champions, outtaken Stephen and Roger;

of the men of Garton were twenty and two, and of the Shepherds three

hundred and seventy and seven stout carles, some eighty of whom had

bows, and the rest glaives and spears and other staff-weapons. There

was not much armour of defence amongst them, but they were one and all

stark carles and doughty.

So when they were told over and made five hundred and fifty and four,

they gat them into array for the road; and Ralph went afoot with no

armour but his sallet, and a light coat of fence which he had gotten

him in the Burg. He would have had Ursula ride on her palfrey with the

Sage, but she would not, and held it for mirth and pleasure that she

should go afoot through the land, now she was so nigh come home to her

lord's house; so she went forth by Ralph's side with her broidered gown

trussed through her girdle so that the trimness of her feet drew the

eyes of all men to them. As for Richard, he took a half score of the

champions, and they rode on ahead to see that all was clear before the

main host; which he might well do, as he knew the country so well.

CHAPTER 25

They Come to Wulstead

Thus went they, and nought befell them to tell of till they came anigh

the gates of Wulstead hard on sunset. The gates, it has been said; for

whereas Ralph left Wulstead a town unwalled, he now found it fenced

with pales, and with two towers strongly framed of timber, one on

either side the gate, and on the battlements of the said towers they

saw spears glittering; before the gate they saw a barrier of big beams

also, and the gleaming of armour therein. Ralph was glad when he saw

that they meant some defence; for though Wulstead was not in the lands

of Upmeads, yet it was always a friendly neighbour, and he looked to

eke out his host therein.

Wulstead standeth on a little hill or swelling of the earth, and the

road that the company of Ralph took went up to the gate across the

plain meadows, which had but here and there a tree upon them, so that

the going of the company was beheld clearly from the gate; as was well

seen, because anon came the sound of the blowing of great horns, and

the spears thickened in the towers. Then Ralph stayed his company two

bowshots from the barriers, while he himself, with his sword in his

sheath, took Ursula's hand and set forth an easy pace toward the gate.

Some of his company, and specially Roger and Stephen, would have letted

him; but he laughed and said, "Why, lads, why? these be friends."

"Yea," quoth Roger, "but an arrow knoweth no kindred nor well-willers:

have a care, lord." Said the Sage of Swevenham: "Ye speak but after

the folly of men of war; the hands and the eyes that be behind the bows

have other hands and eyes behind them which shall not suffer that a

Friend of the Well shall be hurt."

So Ralph and Ursula went forth, and came within a stone's cast of the

barrier, when Ralph lifted up his voice and said: "Is there a captain

of the townsfolk within the timber there?" A cheery voice answered him:

"Yea, yea, lad; spare thy breath; I am coming to thee."

And therewith a man came from out the barrier and did off his headpiece

and ran straight toward Ralph, who saw at once that it was Clement

Chapman; he made no more ado, but coming up to Ralph fell to clipping

him in his arms, while the tears ran down his face. Then he stood

aloof and gazed upon him speechless a little while, and then spake:

"Hail, and a hundred times hail! but now I look on thee I see what hath

betid, and that thou art too noble and high that I should have cast

mine arms about thee. But now as for this one, I will be better

mannered with her."

Therewith he knelt down before Ursula, and kissed her feet, but

reverently. And she stooped down and raised him up, with a merry

countenance kissed his face, and stroked his cheeks with her hand and

said: "Hail, friend of my lord! Was it not rather thou than he who

delivered me from the pain and shame of Utterbol, whereas thou didst

bring him safe through the mountains unto Goldburg? And but for that

there had been no Well, either for him or for me."

But Clement stood with his head hanging down, and his face reddening.

Till Ralph said to him: "Hail, friend! many a time we thought of this

meeting when we were far away and hard bestead; but this is better than

all we thought of. But now, Clement, hold up thine head and be a stout

man of war, for thou seest that we are not alone."

Said Clement: "Yea, fair lord, and timely ye come, both thou and thy

company; and now that I have my speech again which joy hath taken away

from me at the first, I shall tell thee this, that if ye go further

than the good town ye shall be met and fought withal by men who are

over-many and over-fierce for us." "Yea," said Ralph, "and how many be

they?" Quoth Clement: "How many men may be amongst them I wot not, but

I deem there be some two thousand devils."

Now Ralph reddened, and he took Clement by the shoulder, and said:

"Tell me, Clement, are they yet in Upmeads?" "Sooth to say," said

Clement, "by this while they may be therein; but this morn it was yet

free of them; but when thou art home in our house, thy gossip shall

belike tell thee much more than I can; for she is foreseeing, and hath

told us much in this matter also that hath come to pass." Then spake

Ralph: "Where are my father and my mother; and shall I go after them

at once without resting, through the dark night and all?"

Said Clement, and therewith his face brightened: "Nay, thou needest go

no further to look for them than the House of Black Canons within our

walls: there are they dwelling in all honour and dignity these two days

past." "What!" said Ralph, "have they fled from Upmeads, and left the

High House empty? I pray thee, Clement, bring me to them as speedily

as may be."

"Verily," said Clement, "they have fled, with many another, women and

children and old men, who should but hinder the carles who have abided

behind. Nicholas Longshanks is the leader of them down there, and the

High House is their stronghold in a way; though forsooth their stout

heads and strong hands are better defence."

Here Ralph brake in: "Sweetling Ursula, though thy feet have worn a

many miles to-day, I bid thee hasten back to the company and tell

Richard that it is as I said, to wit, that friends, and good guesting

await them; so let them hasten hither and come within gates at once.

For as for me, I have sworn it that I will not go one step back till I

have seen my father and mother in their house of Upmeads. Is it well

said, Clement?" "Yea, forsooth," said Clement; but he could not take

his eyes off Ursula's loveliness, as she kilted her skirts and ran her

ways like one of Diana's ladies in the wildwood. At last he said,

"Thou shalt wot, fair sir, that ye will have a little band to go with

thee from us of Wulstead; forsooth we had gone to-morrow morn in any

case, but since thou art here, all is well." Even as he spake a great

shout broke out from the company as Ursula had given her message, and

then came the tramp of men and horses and the clash of weapons as they

set forward; and Clement looked and beheld how first of all the array

came Ursula, bearing the hallowed staff in her hand; for her heart also

was set on what was to come. Then cried out Clement: "Happy art thou,

lord, and happy shalt thou be, and who shall withstand thee? Lo! what

a war-duke it is! and what a leader that marches with fate in her hands

before thine host!"

Therewith were they all joined together, and Ursula gave the guisarme

into Ralph's hand, and with his other hand he took hers, and the bar of

the barrier was lifted and the gates thrown open, and they all streamed

into the street, the champions coming last and towering over the

footmen as they sat, big men on their big horses, as if they were very

bodyguards of the God of War.

CHAPTER 26

Ralph Sees His Father and Mother Again

Thus came they into the market-place of Wulstead nigh to Clement's

house, and there the company stood in ordered ranks. Ralph looked

round about half expecting to see his gossip standing in the door; but

Clement smiled and said: "Thou art looking round for thy gossip, fair

sir; but she is upon the north gate in war-gear; for we be too few in

Wulstead to spare so clean-limbed and strong-armed a dame from our

muster; but she shall be here against thou comest back from the Austin

Canons, wither forsooth thou mayst go at once if thou wilt let me be

master in the matter of lodging." Said Ralph, smiling: "Well, King of

Wulstead, since thou givest leave I will e'en take it, nor needest thou

give me any guide to the House of St. Austin, for I know it well.

Sweetheart," said he, turning to Ursula, "what sayest thou: wilt thou

come with me, or abide till to-morrow, when I shall show thee to my

kinsmen?" "Nay," she said, "I will with thee at once, my lord, if thou

wilt be kind and take me; for meseemeth I also have a word to say to

thy father, and the mother that bore thee."

"And thou, Hugh," said Ralph, "what sayest thou?" "Why, brother," said

Hugh, "I think my blessing will abide the morrow's morn, for I have

nought so fair and dear to show our father and mother as thou hast.

Also to-morrow thou wilt have more to do; since thou art a captain, and

I but a single varlet." And he smiled a little sourly on Ralph; who

heeded it little, but took Ursula's hand and went his way with her.

It was but a few minutes for them to come to the House of the Canons,

which was well walled toward the fields at the west of the town, so

that it was its chief defence of that side. It was a fair house with a

church but just finished, and Ralph could see down the street its new

white pinnacles and the cross on its eastern gable rising over the

ridge of the dortoir. They came to the gate, and round about it were

standing men-at-arms not a few, who seemed doughty enough at first

sight; but when Ralph looked on them he knew some of them, that they

were old men, and somewhat past warlike deeds, for in sooth they were

carles of Upmeads. Him they knew not, for he had somewhat cast down

the visor of his helm; but they looked eagerly on the fair lady and the

goodly knight.

So Ralph spake to the porter and bade him show him where was King Peter

of Upmeads and his Lady wife; and the porter made him obeisance and

told him that they were in the church, wherein was service toward; and

bade him enter. So they went in and entered the church, and it was

somewhat dim, because the sun was set, and there were many pictures,

and knots of flowers in the glass of the windows.

So they went halfway down the nave, and stood together there; and the

whole church was full of the music that the minstrels were making in

the rood-loft, and most heavenly sweet it was; and as Ralph stood there

his heart heaved with hope and love and the sweetness of his youth; and

he looked at Ursula, and she hung her head, and he saw that her

shoulders were shaken with sobs; but he knew that it was with her as

with him, so he spake no word to her.

Now when his eyes cleared and he was used to the twilight of the

church, he looked toward the choir, and saw near to the Jesus altar a

man and a woman standing together even as they were standing, and they

were somewhat stricken in years. So presently he knew that this would

be his father and mother; so he stood still and waited till the service

should be over; and by then it was done the twilight was growing fast

in the church, and the sacristan was lighting a lamp here and there in

some of the chapels, and the aisles of the choir.

So King Peter and his wife turned and came slowly down the nave, and

when they were come anigh, Ralph spake aloud, and said: "Hail, King

Peter of Upmeads!" And the old man stopped and said unto him: "Yea,

forsooth, my name is Peter, and my business is to be a king, or a

kinglet rather; and once it seemed no such hard craft; but now it all

goes otherwise, and belike my craft has left me; even as it fares with

a leech when folk are either too well or too ill to need his

leech-craft."

Then he looked at Ralph and at Ursula, and said: "Either my eyes are

worse than I deemed yesterday, or thou art young, and a gallant knight,

and she that is standing by thee is young, and fair. Ah, lad! time was

when I would have bid thee come home, thou and thy sweetling, to my

house with me, and abide there in ease and feastfully; but now the best

rede I can give thee is to get thee gone from the land, for there is

all unpeace in it. And yet, forsooth, friend, I know not where to send

thee to seek for peace, since Upmeads hath failed us."

While he spoke, and Ralph was sore moved by the sound of his voice, and

his speech wherein kindness and mocking was so blended, the Dame of

Upmeads came to Ralph and laid her hand on his arm, and said in a

pleasant voice, for she was soft-hearted and soft-spoken both: "Will

not the fair young warrior and his mate do so much for an old man and

his wife, who have heard not tidings of their best beloved son for two

years well nigh, as to come with them to their chamber, and answer a

little question or two as to the parts of the world they have seen of

late?"

Ralph nodded yeasay and began to move toward the porch, the Dame of

Upmeads sticking close to him all the time, and King Peter following

after and saying: "Yea, young man, thou mayst think the worse of me

for hanging about here amongst the monks, when e'en now, for all I

know, the battle is pitched in Upmeads; but Nicholas and all of them

would have it so--Yea, and all my sons are away, fair sir; though of

the eldest, who meseems was born with a long head, we hear that he is

thriving, and hath grown great."

As he spake they were come into the porch, and passed into the open

air, where it was still light; then the Dame turned round on Ralph and

caught him by the two arms and cried out and cast her arms about his

neck; and when she could sunder herself a little from him, she said: "O

Ralph, I deemed that I knew thy voice, but I durst not halse thee till

I knew it was mine own flesh and blood, lest I should have died for

grief to think it was thee when it was not. O son, how fair thou art!

Now do off thy sallet that I may see thee, thy face and thy curly head."

So did he, smiling as one who loved her, and again she fell to kissing

and clipping him. Then his father came up and thrust her aside gently

and embraced him also, and said: "Tell me, son, what thou are become?

Thou art grown much of a man since thou stolest thyself away from me.

Is there aught behind this goodly raiment of thine? And this fair

lady, hath she stolen thee away from thy foes to bring thee home to us?"

Ralph laughed and said: "No less than that, father; I will tell thee

all presently; but this first, that I am the captain of a goodly

company of men-at-arms; and"----"Ah, son, sweetheart," said his mother,

"and thou wilt be going away from us again to seek more fame: and yet,

as I look on thee thou seemest to have grown great enough already. I

deem thou wilt not leave us."

"Mother, my dear," said Ralph, "to-morrow morn we shall go down to

battle in Upmeads, and the day after I shall come hither again, and

bring you back to the High House with all honour and glory. But look,

mother," and he took Ursula's hand, "here is a daughter and a darling

that I have brought back to thee, for this is my wedded wife."

Then Ursula looked beseechingly at the Dame, who took her in her arms

and clipped her and kissed her; and said, "Welcome, daughter; for I

feel thy body that thou lovest me."

Then said King Peter; "Forsooth, son, she is a sweet and dainty

creature. If there be a fairer than her, I wot not; but none so fair

have mine eyes looked on. Tell me whose daughter she is, and of what

lineage?" And therewith he took her hand and kissed her.

But Ursula said: "I am come of no earl or baron. I am a yeoman's

daughter, and both my father and my mother are dead, and I have no nigh

kin save one brother who loveth me not, and would heed it little if he

never saw my face again. Now I tell thee this: that if my lord

biddeth me go from him, I will depart; but for the bidding of none else

will I leave him."

King Peter laughed and said: "Never will I bid thee depart." Then he

took her hand and said: "Sweetling, fair daughter, what is thy name?"

"Ursula," she said. Said he: "Ursula, thy palms are harder than be

the hands of the dainty dames of the cities, but there is no churls'

blood in thee meseemeth. What is thy kindred of the yeoman?" She

said: "We be come of the Geirings of old time: it may be that the

spear is broken, and the banner torn; but we forget not our

forefathers, though we labour afield, and the barons and the earls call

us churls. It is told amongst us that that word is but another way of

saying earl and that it meaneth a man."

Then spoke Ralph: "Father and mother both, I may well thank thee and

bless thee that your eyes look upon this half of me with kind eyes.

And now I shall tell thee that for this woman, her heart is greater

than a king's or a leader of folk. And meseemeth her palms have

hardened with the labour of delivering me from many troubles."

Then the Dame of Upmeads put her arms about Ursula's neck again, and

bade her all welcome once more, with sweet words of darling and dear,

and well-beloved daughter.

But King Peter said: "Son, thou hast not told me what thou are become;

and true it is that thou hast the look of a great one."

Said Ralph: "Father and King, I have become the Lord of the Little

Land of Abundance, the sworn brother of the Champions of the Dry Tree,

the Lord of the Castle of the Scaur, the brother and Warduke of the

Shepherds; and to-morrow shall I be the Conqueror of the robbers and

the devils of the Burg. And this be not enough for me, hearken! I and

my wife both, yea and she leading me, have drunk of the Well at the

World's End, and have become Friends thereof."

And he looked at his father with looks of love, and his father drew

nigh to him again, and embraced him once more, and stroked his cheeks

and kissed him as if he had become a child again: "O son," said he,

"whatsoever thou dost, that thou dost full well. And lo, one while

when I look on thee thou art my dear and sweet child, as thou wert

years agone, and I love thee dearly and finely; and another while thou

art a great and mighty man, and I fear thee; so much greater thou

seemest than we poor upland folk."

Then smiled Ralph for love and happiness, and he said: "Father, I am

thy child in the house and at the board, and that is for thine helping.

And I am thy champion and the fierce warrior afield, and that also is

for thine helping. Be of good cheer; for thine house shall not wane,

but wax." And all those four were full of joy and their hearts were

raised aloft.

But as they spake thus came a lay-brother and bent the knee before King

Peter and bade him and the Dame of Upmeads to supper in the name of the

Prior, and the Captain and the Lady therewith; for indeed the rumour of

the coming of an host for the helping of the countryside had gotten

into that House, and the Prior and the brethern sorely desired to look

upon the Captain, not knowing him for Ralph of Upmeads. So into the

Hall they went together, and there the holy fathers made them great

feast and joy; and King Peter might not refrain him, but told the Prior

how this was his son come back from far lands, with the goodly Lady he

had won to wife therein; and the Prior and all the fathers made much of

Ralph, and rejoiced in their hearts when they saw how goodly a man of

war he had gotten to be. And the Prior would lead him on to tell him

of the marvels he had seen in the far parts of the world; but Ralph

said but little thereon, whereas his thought was set on the days that

lay even before his feet; yet some deal he told him of the uncouth

manners of the lands beyond Whitwall, and at last he said: "Father,

when the battles be over here, and there is peace on our lands again, I

will ask thee to give me guesting for a night, that I may tell thee all

the tale of what hath befallen me since the last summer day when I rode

through Wulstead; but now I ask leave of thee to depart, for I have

many things to do this even, as behoveth a captain, before I sleep for

an hour or two. And if it be thy will, I would leave the Lady my wife

with my mother here at least till morrow morn."

So the Prior gave him leave, loth though he were, and Ralph kissed his

father and mother, and they blessed him. But Ursula said to him

softly: "It is my meaning to go with thee down into Upmeads to-morrow;

for who knoweth what may befall thee." Then he smiled upon her and

went his ways down the hall and out-a-gates, while all men looked on

him and did him worship.

CHAPTER 27

Ralph Holds Converse With Katherine His Gossip

Ralph went straight from St. Austin's to Clement's house, and found

much people about the door thereof, what of the townsmen, what of the

men of his own host. He passed through these, and found Clement in his

chamber, and with him a half score of such company as was without, and

amongst them Roger and the Sage; but Stephen and Richard both were

amongst their men doing what was needful. All men arose when Ralph

entered; but he looked around, and could see nought of his gossip

amongst them. Then he sat down by Clement and asked if he had any

fresh tidings; and Clement did him to wit that there had come in a

carle from out of Upmeads, who had told them by sure tokens that the

foe were come into the Upmeads-land at noon that day, and between then

and sunset had skirmished with Nicholas and them that were holding the

High House, but had gotten nought thereby. This man, said Clement,

being both bold and of good sleight had mingled with the foe; and had

heard the talk of them, and he said that they had no inkling of the

Shepherds or the Dry Tree coming against them; but they looked to have

aid from their own folk from the lands of Higham; wherefore they made a

mock of the defence of the Upmeads' men; and said that since, when they

were all joined together in Upmeads, they might enter where they would

without the loss of a half-score men, therefore they would risk nought

now; nor would they burn either the High House or the other steadings,

since, said they, they were minded to keep them sound and whole for

their own.

These tidings seemed good to Ralph; so he took a cup of wine and

pledged the company, and said: "My masters, such of you as list to

sleep long to-night had best be abed presently, for I warn you that the

trumpets will blow for departure before the sun riseth to-morrow; and

he that faileth to see to-morrow's battle will be sorry for his lack

all his life long."

When he had thus spoken they all cried hail to him, and anon arose and

went their ways. Then Ralph bade Clement come with him that he might

visit the quarters of his men-at-arms, and see that all the leaders

knew of the muster, and of the order of departing on the morrow; and

Clement arose and went with him.

As they were on the way Ralph asked Clement what ailed his gossip

Katherine that she had not come to meet him already; and Clement

laughed and said: "Nought, nought; she is somewhat shamefaced to meet

thee first amongst a many folk, and she not able belike to refrain her

kisses and caresses to thee. Fear not, she is in her bower-aloft, and

we shall find her there when we come back from our errand; fear not!

she will not sleep till she hath had her arms about thee." "Good is

that," said Ralph; "I had looked to see her ere now; but when we meet

apart from folk, something we shall be able to say to each other, which

belike neither she nor I had liked to leave unsaid till we meet again."

So came they to the chief quarters of the fighting men, and Ralph had

all the leaders called to him, and he spake to them of how they should

do on the morrow, both footmen and horsemen, whatwise they should stand

together, and how they should fall on; and he told them all as clearly

as if he were already in the field with the foe before him; so that

they wondered at him, so young in years, being so old in the wisdom of

war. Withal they saw of him that he had no doubt but that they should

come to their above on the morrow; and all men, not only of the tried

men-at-arms of the Dry Tree, but they of the Shepherds also, even those

of them who had never stricken a stroke in anger, were of high heart

and feared not what should befall.

So when all this business was over, they turned about and came their

ways home to Clement's house again.

They saw lights in the chamber or ever they entered, and when they came

to the door, lo! there within was Katherine walking up and down the

floor as if she knew not how to contain herself. She turned and saw

Ralph at the door, and she cried aloud and ran towards him with arms

outspread. But when she drew nigh to him and beheld him closely, she

withheld her, and falling down on her knees before him took his hand

and fell to kissing it and weeping and crying out, "O my lord, my lord,

thou art come again to us!" But Ralph stooped down to her, and lifted

her up, and embraced her and kissed her on the cheeks and the mouth,

and led her to the settle and sat down beside her and put his arm about

her; and Clement looked on smiling, and sat him down over against them.

Then spake Katherine: "O my lord! how great and masterful hast thou

grown; never did I hope to see thee come back so mighty a man." And

again she wept for joy; but Ralph kissed her again, and she said,

laughing through her tears: "Master Clement, this lord and warrior

hath brought back with him something that I have not seen; and belike

he hath had one fair woman in his arms, or more it may be, since I saw

him last. For though he but kisses me as his gossip and foster-mother,

yet are his kisses closer and kinder than they were aforetime."

Said Clement: "Sooth is the Sage's guess; yet verily, fair sir, I have

told her somewhat of thy journeys, so far as I knew of them."

Said Katherine: "Dear lord and gossip, wilt thou not tell me more

thereof now?"

"What!" said Ralph; "shall I not sleep to-night?"

"Dear gossip," she said, "thou art over-mighty to need sleep. And ah!

I had forgotten in the joy of our meeting that to-morrow thou goest to

battle; and how if thou come not again?"

"Fear nought," said Ralph; "art thou not somewhat foreseeing? Dost

thou not know that to-morrow or the day after I shall come back unhurt

and victorious; and then shall both thou and Clement come to Upmeads

and abide there as long as ye will; and then shall I tell thee a many

tales of my wanderings; and Ursula my beloved, she also shall tell

thee."

Katherine reddened somewhat, but she said: "Would I might kiss her

feet, dear lord. But now, I pray thee, tell me somewhat, now at once."

"So shall it be," said Ralph, "since thou wilt have it, dear gossip;

but when I have done I shall ask thee to tell me somewhat, whereof hath

long been wonder in my mind; and meseemeth that by the time we are both

done with tales, I shall needs be putting on my helm again.--Nay, again

I tell thee it is but a show of battle that I go to!"

So then he went and sat by Clement's side, and began and told over as

shortly as might be the tidings of his journeys. And oft she wept for

pity thereat.

But when he was done and he had sat beholding her, and saw how goodly a

woman she was, and how straight and well knit of body, he said:

"Gossip, I wonder now, if thou also hast drunk of the Well; for thou

art too fair and goodly to be of the age that we call thee. How is

this! Also tell me how thou camest by this pair of beads that seem to

have led me to the Well at the World's End? For as I said e'en now, I

have long marvelled how thou hadst them and where."

"Fair sir," said Clement, "as for her drinking of the Well at the

World's End, it is not so; but this is a good woman, and a valiant, and

of great wisdom; and such women wear well, even as a well-wrought piece

of armour that hath borne many strokes of the craftsman's hand, and

hath in it some deal of his very mind and the wisdom of him. But now

let her tell thee her tale (which forsooth I know not), for night is

growing old."

CHAPTER 28

Dame Katherine Tells of the Pair of Beads, and Whence She Had Them

Katherine cast friendly looks on them and said: "Gossip, and thou,

Clement, I will make a clean breast of it once for all. In the days

when I was first wedded to Master Clement yonder, he found his bed cold

without me, for he was a hot lover; therefore would he often have me

with him on his journeys, how hard soever or perilous the way might be.

Yea, Clement, thou lookest the sooth, though thou sayest it not, I was

nought loth thereto, partly because I would not grieve thee, my man;

but partly, and belike mostly, because I was wishful to see the ways of

the world even at the risk of being thrust out of the world. So it

befell us on a time to make a journey together, a journey exceeding

long, in the company of certain chapmen, whereof some, and not a few,

died on the way. But we lived, and came into the eastern parts of the

earth to a city right ancient, and fulfilled of marvels, which hight

Sarras the Holy. There saw we wonders whereof were it overlong to tell

of here; but one while I will tell thee, my lord. But this I must

needs say, that I heard tell of a woman dwelling there, who was not old

by seeming, but had in her the wisdom of ten lives, and the longing gat

hold of me to see her and learn wisdom of her. So I entreated many who

were called wise, some with prayers, and some with gifts also, to help

me to speech of her; but I gat nothing either by praying or giving;

they that would have helped me could not, and they that could would

not. So, what between one thing and another, the longing to see the

Wise Woman grew as it were into a madness in me. Amidst of which we

fell in with a merchant exceeding wise in ancient lore, who looked at

me (though Clement knew it not) with eyes of love. Of this man I asked

concerning the Wise Woman, and he seeing my desire, strove to use it

merchant-like, and would deal with me and have in payment for his

learning a gift which I had nought to do to give. Howbeit madness and

my desire for speech with the Wise Woman got the better of me, and I

promised to give no less than he would, trusting to beguile him after I

had got my desire, and be quit of him. So he led me to the woman and

went his ways. She dwelt all by herself in a nook of an ancient ruined

palace, erst the house of the ancientest of all the kings of Sarras.

When I came to her, I saw nought dreadful or ugsome about her: she was

cheerful of countenance and courteous of demeanour, and greeted me

kindly as one neighbour in the street of Wulstead might do to another.

I saw her, that she was by seeming a woman of some forty winters, trim

and well-fashioned of body, nowise big, but slender, of dark red hair

and brown eyes somewhat small.

"Now, she said to me, 'I have looked for thee a while; now thou art

come, thou shalt tell me what thou needest, and thy needs will I

fulfil. Yet needs must thou do a thing for me in return, and maybe

thou wilt deem it a great thing. Yet whereas thou has struck a bargain

before thou camest hither, if I undo that for thee, the bargain with me

may be nought so burdensome. How sayest thou?'

"Well, I saw now that I was in the trap, for ill had it been in those

days had Clement come to know that I had done amiss; for he was a

jealous lover, and a violent man."

Clement smiled hereat, but said nought, and Katherine went on: "Trap or

no trap, if I were eager before, I was over-eager now; so when she bade

me swear to do her will, I swore it without tarrying.

"Then she said: 'Sit down before me, and I will teach thee wisdom.'

What did she teach me? say ye. Well, if I told you belike ye would be

none the wiser; but so much she told me, that my heart swelled with joy

of the wisdom which I garnered. Say thou, Clement, if I have been the

worser woman to thee, or thy friends, or mine."

"Nay, goodwife," said Clement, "I have nought against thee."

Katherine laughed and went on:

"At last the Wise Woman said, 'Now that thou hast of me all that may

avail thee, comes the other part of our bargain, wherein I shall take

and thou shalt give.'

"Quoth I, 'That is but fair, and thou shalt find me true to thee.' She

said, 'If thou be not, I shall know it, and shall amend it in such wise

that it shall cost thee much.'

"Then she looked on me long and keenly, and said afterward: 'Forsooth I

should forbear laying this charge upon thee if I did not deem that thou

wouldst be no less than true. But now I will try it, whereas I deem

that the days of my life henceforward shall not be many; and many days

would it take me to find a woman as little foolish as thee and as

little false, and thereto as fairly fashioned.'

"Therewith she put her hand to her neck, and took thence the self-same

pair of beads which I gave to thee, dear gossip, and which (praise be

to All Hallows!) thou hast borne ever since; and she said: 'Now

hearken! Thou shalt take this pair of beads, and do with them as I bid

thee. Swear again thereto.' So I swore by All Angels; and she said

again: 'This pair of beads shall one day lead a man unto the Well at

the World's End, but no woman; forsooth, if a woman have them of a

woman, or the like of them, (for there be others,) they may serve her

for a token; but will be no talisman or leading-stone to her; and this

I tell thee lest thou seek to the Well on the strength of them. For I

bid thee give them to a man that thou lovest--that thou lovest well,

when he is in most need; only he shall not be of thine own blood. This

is all that I lay upon thee; and if thou do it, thou shalt thrive, and

if thou do it not, thou shalt come to harm. And I will tell thee now

that this meeting betwixt us is not by chance-hap, but of my bringing

about; for I have laboured to draw thee to me, knowing that thou alone

of women would avail me herein. Now shalt thou go home to thine

hostel, and take this for a token of my sooth-saying. The wise merchant

who led thee unto me is abiding thine homecoming that he may have of

thee that which thou promisedst to him. If then thou find him at thine

hostel, and he take thee by the hand and lead thee to bed, whereas

Clement is away till to-morrow even, then shalt thou call me a vain

word-spinner and a liar; but if when thou comest home there, the folk

there say to thee merchant Valerius is ridden away hastily, being

called afar on a message of life and death, then shalt thou trow in me

as a wise woman. Herewith depart, and I bid thee farewell.'

"So I went my ways to my hostel trembling, and at the door I met the

chamberlain, who said to me, 'Lady, the merchant Valerius hath been

here seeking thee, and he said that he would abide thy coming; but

amidst of his abiding cometh a man who would speak to him privily;

whereof it came that he called for his horse and bade me tell thee,

Lady, that he was summoned on a matter of life and death, and would

return to kiss thine hands in five days' space.'

"So I wotted that the woman had spoken sooth, and was wise and

foreseeing, and something of a dread of her came upon me. But the next

even back cometh Clement, and the day after we rode away from Sarras

the Holy, and Valerius I saw never again. And as to the beads, there

is nought to tell of them till they came into thine hands; and

something tells me that it was the will of the Wise Woman that to no

other hands they should come."

Here Katherine made an end, and both the men sat pondering her tale a

little. As for Ralph, he deemed it certain that the Wise Woman of

Sarras would be none other than she who had taught lore to the Lady of

Abundance; but why she should have meant the beads for him he wotted

not. Again he wondered how it was that the Lady of Abundance should

have given the beads to Ursula, and whether she knew that they had no

might to lead her to the Well at the World's End. And yet further he

wondered how it was that Ursula, unholpen by the talisman, should have

done so much to bring him to the Well; yea, and how she was the first

to see it while he slept. But his heart told him that whereas he was

seeking the Well with her, she must needs come thither with him, unless

they were both cast away; withal Katherine looked at him and said:

"Yea, dear lord, I wot what thou art thinking of; but couldest thou

have left her, when thou hadst once found her again, Well or no Well?"

"Sooth is that," said Ralph, "yet for all that she hath done without

help of talisman or witchcraft is she the more worshipful and the

dearer."

Then speech came into Clement's mouth, and he said: "Wife, it is as I

said before, when thy gossip had just departed from us. It was meet

enough that thou shouldst have loved him better than me; but now it is

even less to be undone than ever, when he has come back bringing with

him a woman so valiant and lovely as is my Lady Ursula. So thou must

e'en take the life that fate hath sent thee." Katherine laughed through

her tears, and said: "Withal, goodman, I have been no bad wife to

thee. And moreover, look thou, gossip dear: when I was wandering about

with Clement amongst many perils, when our need seemed sorest, then

would I think to give the beads to Clement; but so soon as I began to

speak to him of the Well at the World's End he would belittle the tale

of it, and would bid me look to it if it were not so, that where the

world endeth the clouds begin."

As she spoke, Ralph lifted up his hand and pointed to the window, and

said: "Friends, as we were speaking of all these marvels we were

forgetting the need of Upmeads and the day of battle; and lo now! how

the dawn is widening and the candles fading."

Scarce were the words out of his mouth, when on the quietness of the

beginning of day brake out the sound of four trumpets, which were

sounding in the four quarters of the town, and blowing men to the

gathering. Then rose up both Ralph and Clement and took their weapons,

and they kissed Katherine and went soberly out-a-doors into the

market-place, where already weaponed men were streaming in to the

muster.

CHAPTER 29

They Go Down to Battle in Upmeads

Before it was light were all men come into the market-place, and Ralph

and Richard and Clement and Stephen a-Hurst fell to and arrayed them

duly; and now, what with the company which Ralph had led into Wulstead,

what with the men of the town, and them that had fled from Upmeads

(though these last were mostly old men and lads), they were a thousand

and four score and three. Ralph would go afoot as he went yesterday;

but today he bore in his hand the ancient staff of war, the

gold-written guisarme; and he went amongst the Shepherds, with whom

were joined the feeble folk of Upmeads, men whom he had known of old

and who knew him, and it was as if their hearts had caught fire from

his high heart, and that whatever their past days had been to them,

this day at least should be glorious. Withal anon comes Ursula from

St. Austin's with the Sage of Swevenham, whose face was full smiling

and cheerful. Ursula wore that day a hauberk under her gown, and was

helmed with a sallet; and because of her armour she rode upon a little

horse. Ralph gave her into the warding of the Sage, who was armed at

all points, and looked a valiant man of war. But Ralph's brother,

Hugh, had gotten him a horse, and had fallen into the company of the

Champions, saying that he deemed they would go further forth than a

sort of sheep-tending churls and the runaways of Upmeads.

As for Ralph, he walked up and down the ranks of the stout men of the

Down-country, and saw how they had but little armour for defence,

though their weapons for cutting and thrusting looked fell and handy.

So presently he turned about to Giles, who, as aforesaid, bore a long

hauberk, and said: "Friend, the walk we are on to-day is a long one

for carrying burdens, and an hour after sunrise it will be hot. Wilt

thou not do with thy raiment as I do?" And therewith he did off his

hauberk and his other armour save his sallet. "This is good," said he,

"for the sun to shine on, so that I may be seen from far; but these

other matters are good for folk who fight a-horseback or on a wall; we

striders have no need of them."

Then arose great shouting from the Shepherds, and men stretched out the

hand to him and called hail on his valiant heart.

Amidst of which cries Giles muttered, but so as Ralph might hear him:

"It is all down hill to Upmeads; I shall take off my iron-coat coming

back again." So Ralph clapped him on the shoulder and bade him come

back whole and well in any case. "Yea, and so shalt thou come back,"

said he.

Then the horns blew for departure, and they went their ways out of the

market-place, and out into the fields through the new wooden wall of

Wulstead. Richard led the way with a half score of the Champions, but

he rode but a little way before Ralph, who marched at the head of the

Shepherds.

So they went in the fresh morning over the old familiar fields, and

strange it seemed to Ralph that he was leading an host into the little

land of Upmeads. Speedily they went, though in good order, and it was

but a little after sunrise when they were wending toward the brow of

the little hill whence they would look down into the fair meads whose

image Ralph had seen on so many days of peril and weariness.

And now Richard and his fore-riders had come up on to the brow and sat

there on their horses clear against the sky; and Ralph saw how Richard

drew his sword from the scabbard and waved it over his head, and he and

his men shouted; then the whole host set up a great shout, and hastened

up the bent, but with the end of their shout and the sound of the tramp

of their feet and the rattle of their war-gear was mingled a confused

noise of cries a way off, and the blowing of horns, and as Ralph and

his company came crowding up on to the brow, he looked down and saw the

happy meadows black with weaponed men, and armour gleaming in the clear

morning, and the points of weapons casting back the low sun's rays and

glittering like the sparks in a dying fire of straw. Then again he

looked, and lo! the High House rising over the meadows unburned and

unhurt, and the banner of the fruited tree hanging forth from the

topmost tower thereof.

Then he felt a hand come on to his cheek, and lo, Ursula beside him,

her cheeks flushed and her eyes glittering; and she cried out: "O thine

home, my beloved, thine home!" And he turned to her and said; "Yea,

presently, sweetheart!" "Ah," she said, "will it be long? and they so

many!" "And we so mighty!" said Ralph. "Nay, it will be but a little

while. Wise man of Swevenham, see to it that my beloved is anigh me

to-day, for where I am, there will be safety."

The Sage nodded yeasay and smiled.

Then Ralph looked along the ridge to right and left of him, and saw

that all the host had come up and had a sight of the foemen; on the

right stood the Shepherds staring down into the meadow and laughing for

the joy of battle and the rage of the oppressed. On the left sat the

Champions of the Dry Tree on their horses, and they also were tossing

up their weapons and roaring like lions for the prey; and down below

the black crowd had drawn together into ordered ranks, and still the

clamour and rude roaring of the warriors arose thence, and beat against

the hill's brow.

Now so fierce and ready were the men of Ralph's company that it was a

near thing but that they, and the Shepherds in especial, did not rush

tumultuously down the hill all breathless and in ill order. But Ralph

cried out to Richard to go left, and Giles to go right, and stay the

onset for a while; and to bid the leaders come to him where he stood.

Then the tumult amidst his folk lulled, and Stephen a-Hurst and Roger

and three others of the Dry Tree came to him, and Giles brought three

of the Shepherds, and there was Clement and a fellow of his. So when

they were come and standing in a ring round Ralph, he said to them:

"Brothers in arms, ye see that our foes are all in array to meet us,

having had belike some spy in Wulstead, who hath brought them the tale

of what was toward. Albeit methinks that this irks not either you nor

me; for otherwise we might have found them straggling, and scattered

far and wide, which would have made our labour the greater. Now ye can

see with your eyes that they are many more than we be, even were

Nicholas to issue out of the High House against them, as doubtless he

will do if need be. Brethren, though they be so many, yet my heart

tells me that we shall overcome them; yet if we leave our strength and

come down to them, both our toil shall be greater, and some of us,

belike many, shall be slain; and evil should I deem it if but a score

of my friends should lose their lives on this joyous day when at last I

see Upmeads again after many troubles. Wherefore my rede is that we

abide their onset on the hillside here; and needs must they fall on us,

whereas we have Wulstead and friends behind us, and they nought but

Nicholas and the bows and bills of the High House. But if any have

aught to say against it let him speak, but be speedy; for already I see

a stir in their array, and I deem that they will send men to challenge

us to come down to them."

Then spake Stephen a-Hurst: "I, and we all meseemeth, deem that thou

art in the right, Captain; though sooth to say, when we first set eyes

on these dogs again, the blood so stirred in us that we were like to

let all go and ride down on them."

Said Richard: "Thou biddest us wisdom of war; let them have the hill

against them." Said Clement: "Yea, for they are well learned and well

armed; another sort of folk to those wild men whom we otherthrew in the

mountains."

And in like wise said they all.

Then spake Stephen again: "Lord, since thou wilt fight afoot with our

friends of the Shepherds, we of the Dry Tree are minded to fare in like

wise and to forego our horses; but if thou gainsay it----"

"Champion," said Ralph, "I do gainsay it. Thou seest how many of them

be horsed, and withal ye it is who must hold the chase of them; for I

will that no man of them shall escape."

They laughed joyously at his word, and then he said: "Go now, and give

your leaders of scores and tens the word that I have said, and come

back speedily for a little while; for now I see three men sundering

them from their battle, and one beareth a white cloth at the end of his

spear; these shall be the challengers."

So they did after his bidding, and by then they had come back to Ralph

those three men were at the foot of the hill, which was but low. Then

Ralph said to his captains: "Stand before me, so that I be not seen of

them until one of you hath made answer, 'Speak of this to our leader

and captain.'" Even so they did; and presently those three came so nigh

that they could see the whites of their eyes. They were all three well

armed, but the foremost of them was clad in white steel from head to

foot, so that he looked like a steel image, all but his face, which was

pale and sallow and grim. He and his two fellows, when they were right

nigh, rode slowly all along the front of Ralph's battles thrice, and

none spake aught to them, and they gave no word to any; but when they

came over against the captains who stood before Ralph for the fourth

time, they reined up and faced them, and the leader put back his sallet

and spake in a great and rough voice:

"Ye men! we have heard these three hours that ye were coming, wherefore

we have drawn out into the meads which we have taken, that ye might see

how many and how valiant we be, and might fear us. Wherefore now, ye

broken reivers of the Dry Tree, ye silly shepherds of silly sheep, ye

weavers and apprentices of Wulstead, and if there by any more, ye

fools! we give you two choices this morn. Either come down to us into

the meadow yonder, that we may slay you with less labour, or else,

which will be the better for you, give up to us the Upmeads thralls who

be with you, and then turn your faces and go back to your houses, and

abide there till we come and pull you out of them, which may be some

while yet. Hah! what say ye, fools?"

Then spake Clement and said: "Ye messengers of the robbers and

oppressors, why make ye this roaring to the common people and the

sergeants? Why speak ye not with our Captain?"

Cried out the challenger, "Where then is the Captain of the Fools? is

he hidden? can he hear my word?"

Scarce was it out of his mouth ere the captains fell away to right and

left, and there, standing by himself, was Ralph, holding the ancient

lettered war-staff; his head was bare, for now he had done off his

sallet, and the sun and the wind played in his bright hair; glorious

was his face, and his grey eyes gleamed with wrath and mastery as he

spake in a clear voice, and there was silence all along the ranks to

hearken him:

"O messenger of the robbers! I am the captain of this folk. I see

that the voice hath died away within the jaws of you; but it matters

not, for I have heard thy windy talk, and this is the answer: we will

neither depart, nor come down to you, but will abide our death by your

hands here on this hill-side. Go with this answer."

The man stared wild at Ralph while he was speaking, and seemed to

stagger in his saddle; then he let his sallet fall over his face, and,

turning his horse about, rode swiftly, he and his two fellows, down the

hill and away to the battle of the Burgers. None followed or cried

after him; for now had a great longing and expectation fallen upon

Ralph's folk, and they abode what shall befall with little noise. They

noted so soon as the messenger was gotten to the main of the foemen

that there was a stir amongst them, and they were ordering their ranks

to move against the hill. And withal they saw men all armed coming

from out the High House, who went down to the Bridge and abode there.

Upmeads-water ran through the meadows betwixt the hill and the High

House, as hath been said afore; but as it winded along, one reach of it

went nigh to the House, and made wellnigh a quarter of a circle about

it before it turned to run down the meadows to the eastward; and at

this nighest point was there a wide bridge well builded of stone.

The Burg-devils heeded not the men at the Bridge, but, being all

arrayed, made but short tarrying (and that belike only to hear the tale

of their messenger) ere they came in two battles straight across the

meadow. They on their right were all riders, and these faced the

Champions of the Dry Tree, but a great battle of footmen came against

the Shepherds and the rest of Ralph's footmen, but in their rearward

was a company of well-horsed men-at-arms; and all of them were well

armed and went right orderly and warrior-like.

It was but some fifteen minutes ere they were come to the foot of the

hill, and they fell to mounting it with laughter and mockery, but

Ralph's men held their peace. The horsemen were somewhat speedier than

those on foot, though they rode but at a foot's pace, and when they

were about halfway up the hill and were faltering a little (for it was

somewhat steep, though nought high), the Champions of the Dry Tree

could forbear them no longer, but set up a huge roar, and rode at them,

so that they all went down the hill together, but the Champions were

lost amidst of the huge mass of the foemen.

But Ralph was left at the very left end of his folk, and the foemen

came up the hill speedily with much noise and many foul mocks as

aforesaid, and they were many and many more than Ralph's folk, and now

that the Champions were gone, could have enfolded them at either end;

but no man of the company blenched or faltered, only here and there one

spake soft to his neighbour, and here and there one laughed the

battle-laugh.

Now at the hanging of the hill, whenas either side could see the whites

of the foemen's eyes, the robbers stayed a little to gather breath; and

in that nick of time Ralph strode forth into the midst between the two

lines and up on to a little mound on the hill-side (which well he

knew), and he lifted up the ancient guisarme, and cried on high: "Home

now! Home to Upmeads!"

Then befell a marvel, for even as all eyes of the foemen were turned on

him, straightway their shouts and jeering and laughter fell dead, and

then gave place to shrieks and wailing, as all they who beheld him cast

down their weapons and fled wildly down the hill, overturning whatever

stood in their way, till the whole mass of them was broken to pieces,

and the hill was covered with nought but cravens and the light-footed

Shepherds slaughtering them in the chase.

But Ralph called Clement to him and they drew a stalworth band

together, and, heeding nought the chase of the runaways, they fell on

those who had the Champions in their midst, and fell to smiting down

men on either hand; and every man who looked on Ralph crouched and

cowered before him, casting down his weapons and throwing up his hands.

Shortly to say it, when these horsemen felt this new onset, and looking

round saw their men fleeing hither and thither over the green fields of

Upmeads, smitten by the Shepherds and leaping into the deep pools of

the river, they turned and fled, every man who could keep his saddle,

and made for the Bridge, the Dry Tree thundering at their backs. But

even as they came within bowshot, a great flight of arrows came from

the further side of the water, and the banner of the Fruitful Tree came

forth from the bridge-end with Nicholas and his tried men-at-arms

behind it; and then indeed great and grim was the murder, and the proud

men of the Burg grovelled on the ground and prayed for mercy till

neither the Champions nor the men of Nicholas could smite helpless men

any longer.

Now had Ralph held his hand from the chase, and he was sitting on a

mound amidst of the meadow under an ancient thorn, and beside him sat

the Sage of Swevenham and Ursula. And she was grown pale now and

looked somewhat scared, and she spake in a trembling voice to Ralph,

and said: "Alas friend! that this should be so grim! When we hear the

owls a-nighttime about the High House, shall we not deem at whiles that

it is the ghosts of this dreadful battle and slaughter wandering about

our fair fields?" But Ralph spake sternly and wrathfully as he sat

there bareheaded and all unarmed save for the ancient glaive: "Why did

they not slay me then? Better the ghosts of robbers in our fields by

night, than the over-burdened hapless thrall by day, and the scourged

woman, and ruined child. These things they sought for us and have

found death on the way--let it be!"

He laughed as he spake; but then the grief of the end of battle came

upon him and he trembled and shook, and great tears burst from his eyes

and rolled down his cheeks, and he became stark and hard-faced.

Then Ursula took his hands and caressed them, and kissed his face, and

fell a-talking to him of how they rode the pass to the Valley of Sweet

Chestnuts; and in a while his heart and his mind came back to him as it

did that other time of which she spake, and he kissed her in turn, and

began to tell her of his old chamber in the turret of the High House.

And now there come riding across the field two warriors. They draw

rein by the mound, and one lights down, and lo! it is Long Nicholas;

and he took Ralph in his arms, and kissed him and wept over him for all

his grizzled beard and his gaunt limbs; but few words he had for him,

save this: "My little Lord, was it thou that was the wise captain

to-day, or this stout lifter and reiver!" But the other man was Stephen

a-Hurst, who laughed and said: "Nay, Nicholas, I was the fool, and this

stripling the wise warrior. But, Lord Ralph, thou wilt pardon me, I

hope, but we could not kill them all, for they would not fight in any

wise; what shall we do with them?" Ralph knit his brows and thought a

little; then he said: "How many hast thou taken?" Said Stephen: "Some

two hundred alive." "Well," quoth Ralph; "strip them of all armour and

weapons, and let a score of thy riders drive them back the way they

came into the Debateable Wood. But give them this last word from me,

that or long I shall clear the said wood of all strong-thieves."

Stephen departed on that errand; and presently comes Giles and another

of the Shepherds with a like tale, and had a like answer.

Now amidst all these deeds it yet lacked an hour of noon. So presently

Ralph arose and took Richard apart for a while and spoke with him a

little, and then came back to Ursula and took her by the hand, and

said: "Beloved, Richard shall take thee now to a pleasant abode this

side the water; for I grudge that thou shouldst enter the High House

without me; and as for me I must needs ride back to Wulstead to bring

hither my father and mother, as I promised to do after the battle. In

good sooth, I deemed it would have lasted longer." Said Ursula: "Dear

friend, this is even what I should have bidden thee myself. Depart

speedily, that thou mayst be back the sooner; for sorely do I long to

enter thine house, beloved." Then Ralph turned to Nicholas, and said:

"Our host is not so great but that thou mayst victual it well; yet I

deem it is little less than when we left Wulstead early this morning."

"True is that, little lord," said Nicholas. "Hear a wonder amongst

battles: of thy Shepherds and the other footmen is not one slain, and

but some five hurt. The Champions have lost three men slain outright,

and some fifteen hurt; of whom is thy brother Hugh, but not sorely."

"Better than well is thy story then," said Ralph. "Now let them bring

me a horse." So when he was horsed, he kissed Ursula and went his

ways. And she abode his coming back at Richard's house anigh the water.

CHAPTER 30

Ralph Brings His Father and Mother to Upmeads

Short was the road back again to Wulstead, and whereas the day was not

very old when Ralph came there, he failed not to stop at Clement's

house, and came into the chamber where sat Dame Katherine in pensive

wise nigh to the window, with her open hands in her lap. Quoth Ralph:

"Rejoice, gossip! for neither is Clement hurt, nor I, and all is done

that should be done." She moved her but little, but the tears came

into her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "What, gossip?" quoth Ralph;

"these be scarce tears of joy; what aileth thee?" "Nay," said

Katherine, "indeed I am joyful of thy tidings, though sooth to say I

looked for none other. But, dear lord and gossip, forgive me my tears

on the day of thy triumph; for if they be not wholly of joy, so also

are they not wholly of sorrow. But love and the passing of the days

are bittersweet within my heart to-day. Later on thou shalt see few

faces more cheerful and merry in the hall at Upmeads than this of thy

gossip's. So be merry now, and go fetch thy father and thy mother, and

rejoice their hearts that thou hast been even better than thy word to

them. Farewell, gossip; but look to see me at Upmeads before many days

are past; for I know thee what thou art; and that the days will

presently find deeds for thee, and thou wilt be riding into peril, and

coming safe from out of it. Farewell!"

So he departed and rode to the House of St. Austin, and the folk

gathered so about him in the street that at the gate of the Priory he

had to turn about and speak to them; and he said: "Good people,

rejoice! there are no more foemen of Wulstead anigh you now; and take

this word of me, that I will see to it in time to come that ye live in

peace and quiet here."

Folk shouted for joy, and the fathers who were standing within the gate

heard his word and rejoiced, and some of them ran off to tell King

Peter that his son was come back victorious already; so that by then he

had dismounted at the Guest-house door, lo! there was the King and his

wife with him, and both they alboun for departure. And when they saw

him King Peter cried out: "There is no need to say a word, my son;

unless thou wouldst tell the tale to the holy father Prior, who, as ye

see, has e'en now come out to us."

Said Ralph: "Father and mother, I pray your blessing, and also the

blessing of the father Prior here; and the tale is short enough: that

we have overthrown them and slain the more part, and the others are now

being driven like a herd of swine into their stronghold of the Wood

Debateable, where, forsooth, I shall be ere the world is one month

older. And in the doing of all this have but three of our men been

slain and a few hurt, amongst whom is thy son Hugh, but not sorely."

"O yea, son," said his mother, "he shall do well enough. But now with

thy leave, holy Prior, we will depart, so that we may sleep in the High

House to-night, and feel that my dear son's hand is over us to ward us."

Then Ralph knelt before them, and King Peter and his wife blessed their

son when they had kissed and embraced each other, and they wept for joy

of him. The Prior also, who was old, and a worthy prelate, and an

ancient friend of King Peter, might not refrain his tears at the joy of

his friends as he gave Ralph his blessing. And then, when Ralph had

risen up and the horses were come, he said to him: "One thing thou art

not to forget, young conqueror, to wit, that thou art to come here

early one day, and tell me all thy tale at full length."

"Yea, Prior," said Ralph, "or there is the High House of Upmeads for

thee to use as thine own, and a rest for thee of three or four days

while thou hearkenest the tale; for it may need that."

"Hearken," said King Peter softly to the Dame, "how he reckons it all

his own; my day is done, my dear." He spake smiling, and she said:

"Soothly he is waxen masterful, and well it becometh the dear

youngling."

Now they get to horse and ride their ways, while all folk blessed them.

The two old folk rode fast and pressed their nags whatever Ralph might

do to give them pastime of words; so they came into the plain field of

Upmeads two hours before sunset; and King Peter said: "Now I account it

that I have had one day more of my life than was my due, and thou, son,

hast added it to the others whereas thou didst not promise to bring me

hither till morrow."

Ralph led them round by the ford, so that they might not come across

the corpses of the robbers; but already were the Upmeads carles at work

digging trenches wherein to bury them.

So Ralph led his father and his mother to the gate of the garth of High

House; then he got off his horse and helped them down, and as he so

dealt with his father, he said to him: "Thou art springy and limber

yet, father; maybe thou wilt put on thine helm this year to ride the

Debateable Wood with me."

The old man laughed and said: "Maybe, son; but as now it is time for

thee to enter under our roof-tree once more."

"Nay," said Ralph, "but go ye in and sit in the high-seat and abide me.

For did I not go straight back to you from the field of battle; and can

I suffer it that any other hand than mine should lead my wife into the

hall and up to the high-seat of my fathers; and therefore I go to fetch

her from the house of Richard the Red where she is abiding me; but

presently I shall lead her in, and do ye then with us what ye will."

Therewith he turned about and rode his ways to Richard's house, which

was but a half-mile thence. But his father and mother laughed when he

was gone, and King Peter said: "There again! thou seest, wife, it is

he that commands and we that obey."

"O happy hour that so it is!" said the Lady, "and happy now shall be

the wearing of our days."

So they entered the garth and came into the house, and were welcomed

with all joy by Nicholas, and told him all that Ralph had said, and

bade him array the house as he best might; for there was much folk

about the High House, though the Upmeads carles and queans had taken

the more part of the host to their houses, which they had delivered

from the fire and sword, and they made much of them there with a good

heart.

CHAPTER 31

Ralph Brings Ursula Home to the High House

Ralph speedily came to Richard's house and entered the chamber, and

found Ursula alone therein, clad in the daintiest of her woman's gear

of the web of Goldburg. She rose up to meet him, and he took her in

his arms, and said: "Now is come the very ending of our journey that we

so often longed for; and all will be ready by then we come to the High

House."

"Ah," she said, as she clung to him, "but they were happy days the days

of our journey; and to-morrow begins a new life."

"Nay," he said, "but rather this even; shall it be loathly to thee,

lady?"

She said: "There will be many people whom I knew not yesterday."

"There will be but me," he said, "when the night hath been dark for a

little."

She kissed him and said nought. And therewithal came some of Richard's

folk, for it was his house, and led with them a white palfrey for

Ursula's riding, dight all gay and goodly.

"Come then," said Ralph, "thou needest not to fear the ancient house,

for it is kind and lovely, and my father and my mother thou hast seen

already, and they love thee. Come then, lest the hall be grown too

dusk for men to see thy fairness." "Yea, yea," she said, "but first

here is a garland I made for thee, and one also for me, while I was

abiding thee after the battle, and my love and my hope is woven into

it." And she set it on his head, and said, "O thou art fair, and I did

well to meet thee in the dark wood." Then he kissed her dearly on the

mouth and led her forth, and none went with them, and they mounted and

went their ways.

But Ralph said: "I deem that we should ride the meadow to the bridge,

because that way lies the great door of the hall, and if I know my

father and Nicholas they will look for us that way. Dost thou yet fear

these dead men, sweetheart, whom our folk slew this morning?" "Nay,"

she said, "it has been a long time since the morning, and they, and

their fieriness which has so burned out, are now to me as a tale that

hath been told. It is the living that I am going to, and I hope to do

well by them."

Came they then to the bridge-end and there was no man there, nought but

the kine that were wandering about over the dewy grass of eventide.

Then they rode over the bridge and through the orchard, and still there

was no man, and all gates were open wide. So they came into the

base-court of the house, and it also was empty of folk; and they came

to the great doors of the hall and they were open wide, and they could

see through them that the hall was full of folk, and therein by the

light of the low sun that streamed in at the shot-window at the other

end they saw the faces of men and the gleam of steel and gold.

So they lighted down from their horses, and took hand in hand and

entered bright-faced and calm, and goodly beyond the goodliness of men;

then indeed all that folk burst forth into glad cries, and tossed up

their weapons, and many wept for joy.

As they went slowly up the long hall (and it was thirty fathom of

length) Ralph looked cheerfully and friendly from side to side, and

beheld the faces of the Shepherds and the Champions, and the men of

Wulstead, and his own folk; and all they cried hail to him and the

lovely and valiant Lady. Then he looked up to the high-seat, and saw

that his father's throne was empty, and his mother's also; but behind

the throne stood a knight all armed in bright armour holding the banner

of Upmeads; but his father and mother stood on the edge of the dais to

meet him and Ursula; and when they came up thither these old folk

embraced them and kissed them and led them up to the table. Then Ralph

bade Ursula sit by his mother, and made him ready to sit by his father

in all love and duty. But King Peter stayed him and said: "Nay, dear

son, not there, but here shalt thou sit, thou saviour of Upmeads and

conqueror of the hearts of men; this is a little land, but therein

shall be none above thee." And therewith he set Ralph down in the

throne, and Ralph, turning to his left hand, saw that it was Ursula,

and not his mother, who sat beside him. But at the sight of these two

in the throne the glad cries and shouts shook the very timbers of the

roof, and the sun sank under while yet they cried hail to the King of

Upmeads.

Then were the lights brought and the supper, and all men fell to feast,

and plenteous was the wine in the hall; and sure since first men met to

eat together none have been merrier than they.

But now when men had well eaten, and the great cup called the River of

Upmeads was brought in, the cupbearers, being so bidden before, brought

it last of all to King Peter, and he stood up with the River in his

hand and spoke aloud, and said: "Lords and warriors, and good people

all, here I do you to wit, that it is not because my son Ralph has come

home to-day and wrought us a great deliverance, and that my love hath

overcome me; it is not for this cause that I have set him in my throne

this even; but because I see and perceive that of all the kindred he is

meetest to sit therein so long as he liveth; unless perchance this

lovely and valiant woman should bear him a son even better than

himself--and so may it be. Therefore I do you all to wit that this

man is the King of Upmeads, and this woman is his Lady and Queen; and

so deem I of his prowess, and his wisdom, and kindliness, that I trow

he shall be lord and servant of other lands than Upmeads, and shall

draw the good towns and the kindreds and worthy good lords into peace

and might and well-being, such as they have not known heretofore. Now

within three days shall mass be sung in the choir of St. Laurence, and

then shall King Ralph swear on the gospels such oaths as ye wot of, to

guard his people, and help the needy, and oppress no man, even as I

have sworn it. And I say to you, that if I have kept the oath to my

power, yet shall he keep it better, as he is mightier than I.

"Furthermore, when he hath sworn, then shall the vassals swear to him

according to ancient custom, to be true to him and hardy in all due

service. But so please you I will not abide till then, but will kneel

to him and to his Lady and Queen here and now."

Even so he did, and took Ralph's hand in his and swore service to him

such as was due; and he knelt to Ursula also, and bade her all thanks

for what she had done in the helping of his son; and they raised him up

and made much of him and of Ralph's mother; and great was the joy of

all folk in the hall.

So the feast went on a while till the night grew old, and folk must

fare bedward. Then King Peter and his wife brought Ralph and Ursula to

the chamber of the solar, the kingly chamber, which was well and goodly

dight with hangings and a fair and glorious bed, and was newly decked

with such fair flowers as the summer might furnish; and at the

threshold King Peter stayed them and said: "Kinsman, and thou, dear

friend, this is become your due chamber and resting-place while ye live

in the world, and this night of all others it shall be a chamber of

love; for ye are, as it were, new wedded, since now first ye are come

amongst the kindred as lover and beloved; and thou, Ursula, art now at

last the bride of this ancient house; now tell me, doth it not look

friendly and kindly on thee?"

"O yea, yea," she said. "Come thou, my man and my darling and let us

be alone in the master-chamber of this ancient House."

Then Ralph drew her unto him; and the old man blessed them and prayed

for goodly offspring for them, that the House of Upmeads might long

endure.

And thus were they two left alone amidst the love and hope of the

kindred, as erst they lay alone in the desert.

CHAPTER 32

Yet a Few Words Concerning Ralph of Upmeads

Certain it is that Ralph failed not of his promise to the good Prior of

St. Austin's at Wulstead, but went to see him speedily, and told him

all the tale of his wanderings as closely as he might, and hid naught

from him; which, as ye may wot, was more than one day's work or two or

three. And ever when Ralph thus spoke was a brother of the House

sitting with the Prior, which brother was a learned and wise man and

very speedy and deft with his pen. Wherefore it has been deemed not

unlike that from this monk's writing has come the more part of the tale

above told. And if it be so, it is well.

Furthermore, it is told of Ralph of Upmeads that he ruled over his

lands in right and might, and suffered no oppression within them, and

delivered other lands and good towns when they fell under tyrants and

oppressors; and for as kind a man as he was in hall and at hearth, in

the field he was a warrior so wise and dreadful, that oft forsooth the

very sound of his name and rumour of his coming stayed the march of

hosts and the ravage of fair lands; and no lord was ever more beloved.

Till his deathday he held the Castle of the Scaur, and cleansed the

Wood Perilous of all strong-thieves and reivers, so that no high-street

of a good town was safer than its glades and its byways. The new folk

of the Burg of the Four Friths made him their lord and captain, and the

Champions of the Dry Tree obeyed him in all honour so long as any of

them lasted. He rode to Higham and offered himself as captain to the

abbot thereof, and drave out the tyrants and oppressors thence, and

gave back peace to the Frank of Higham. Ever was he true captain and

brother to the Shepherd-folk, and in many battles they followed him;

and were there any scarcity or ill hap amongst them, he helped them to

the uttermost of his power. The Wood Debateable also he cleared of

foul robbers and reivers, and rooted out the last of the Burg-devils,

and delivered three good towns beyond the wood from the cruelty of the

oppressor.

Once in every year he and Ursula his wife visited the Land of

Abundance, and he went into the castle there as into a holy place, and

worshipped the memory of the Lady whom he had loved so dearly. With

all the friends of his quest he was kind and well-beloved.

In about two years from the day when he rode home, came to him the Lord

Bull of Utterbol with a chosen band, of whom were both Otter and

Redhead. That very day they came he was about putting his foot in the

stirrup to ride against the foemen; so Bull and his men would not go

into the High House to eat, but drank a cup where they stood, and

turned and rode with him straightway, and did him right manly service

in battle; and went back with him afterwards to Upmeads, and abode with

him there in feasting and joyance for two months' wearing. And thrice

in the years that followed, when his lands at home seemed safest and

most at peace, Ralph took a chosen band, and Ursula with them, and

Clement withal, and journeyed through the wastes and the mountains to

Utterbol, and passed joyous days with his old thrall of war, Bull Nosy,

now become a very mighty man and the warder of the peace of the

Uttermost lands.

Clement and Katherine came oft to the High House, and Katherine

exceeding often; and she loved and cherished Ursula and lived long in

health of body and peace of mind.

All the days that Ralph of Upmeads lived, he was the goodliest of men,

and no man to look on him had known it when he grew old; and when he

changed his life, an exceeding ancient man, he was to all men's eyes in

the very blossom of his age.

As to Ursula his wife, she was ever as valiant and true as when they

met in the dark night amidst of the Eastland wood. Eight goodly

children she bore him, and saw four generations of her kindred wax up;

but even as it was with Ralph, never was she less goodly of body, nay

rather, but fairer than when first she came to Upmeads; and the day

whereon any man saw her was a day of joyful feast to him, a day to be

remembered for ever. On one day they two died and were laid together

in one tomb in the choir of St. Laurence of Upmeads. AND HERE ENDS THE

TALE OF THE WELL AT THE WORLD'S END.