As for him, he knelt beside her, looking on her wistfully; and at last hesaid: "I shall tell thee, that I am glad that thou wert hungry and that Ihave seen thee eating, else might I have deemed thee somewhat other thana woman of mankind even yet."
She said: "Yea, and why wouldst thou not believe my word thereto?"
He said, reddening: "I almost fear to tell thee, lest thou think meoverbold and be angry with me."
"Nay," she said, "tell me, for I would know."
Said he: "The words are not easy in my rude mouth; but this is whatI mean: that though I be young I have seen fair women not a few, butbeside any of them thou art a wonder;....and loth I were if thou wert notreally of mankind, if it were but for the glory of the world."
She hung her head and answered nought a while, and he also seemedashamed: but presently she spake: "Thou hast been kind to us, wouldstthou tell us thy name? and then, if it like thee, what thou art?"
"Lady," he said, "my name is easy to tell, I hight Christopher; andwhiles folk in merry mockery call me Christopher King; meseems becauseI am of the least account of all carles. As for what else I am, a woodmanI am, an outlaw, and the friend of them: yet I tell thee I have never bymy will done any harm to any child of man; and those friends of mine,who are outlaws also, are kind and loving with me, both man and woman,though needs must they dwell aloof from kings' courts and barons' halls."
She looked at him wondering, and as if she did not altogetherunderstand him; and she said: "Where dost thou dwell?"
He said: "To-day I dwell hard by; though where I shall dwell to-morrow, who knows? And with me are dwelling three of my kind fellows;and the dearest is a young man of mine own age, who is my fellow in allmatters, for us to live and die each for the other. Couldst thou have seenhim, thou wouldst love him I deem."
"What name hath he?" said Goldilind.
"He hight David," said Christopher.
But therewith he fell silent and knit his brow, as though he werethinking of some knotty point: but in a while his face cleared, and hesaid: "If I durst, I would ask thee thy name, and what thou art?"
"As to my name," said she, "I will not tell it thee as now. As to what Iam, I am a poor prisoner; and much have I been grieved and tormented, sothat my body hath been but a thing whereby I might suffer anguish.Something else am I, but I may not tell thee what as yet."
He looked on her long, and then arose and went his way along the verytrack of their footsteps, and he took the horse and brought him back to thethorn, and stood by the lady and reddened, and said: "I must tell theewhat I have been doing these last minutes."
"Yea," said she, looking at him wonderingly, "hast thou not beenfetching my horse to me?"
"So it is," said he; "but something else also. Ask me, or I cannot tellthee."
She laughed, and said: "What else, fair sir?"
Said he: "Ask me what, or I cannot tell thee."
"Well, what, then?" said she.
He answered, stammering and blushing: "I have been looking at thyfoot prints, whereby thou camest up from the water, to see what new andfairer blossoms have come up in the meadow where thy feet were set e'ennow."
She answered him nothing, and he held his peace. But in a while shesaid: "If thou wouldst have us come to thine house, thou shalt lead usthither now." And therewith she took her foot-gear from out of her girdle, as if she would do it on, and he turned his face away, but sighed therewith.Then she reddened and put them back again, and rose up lightly, and said:"I will go afoot; and wilt thou lead the horse for me?"
So did he, and led her by all the softest and most flowery ways,turning about the end of a spur of the little hill that came close to the water,and going close to the lip of the river. And when they had thus turnedabout the hill there was a somewhat wider vale before them, grassy andfair, and on a knoll, not far from the water, a long frame-house thatchedwith reed.
Then said Christopher: "Lady, this is now Littledale, and yonder thehouse thereof."
She said quietly: "Lovely is the dale, and fair the house by seeming,and I would that they may be happy that dwell therein!"
Said Christopher: "Wilt thou not speak that blessing within the houseas without?"
"Fain were I thereof," she said. And therewith they came into thegarth, wherein the apple trees were blossoming, and Goldilind spreadabroad her hands and lifted up her head for joy of the sight and the scent,and they stayed awhile before they went on to the door, which was halfopen, for they feared none in that place, and looked for none whom theymight not deal with if he came as a foe.
Christopher would have taken a hand of her to lead her in, but bothhands were in her gown to lift up the hem as she passed over the threshold;so he durst not.
Fair and bright now was the hall within, with its long and lowwindows goodly glazed, a green halling on the walls of Adam and Eve andthe garden, and the good God walking therein; the sun shone brightthrough the southern windows, and about the porch it was hot, but furthertoward the dais cool and pleasant.
So Goldilind sat down in the coolest of the place at the standing table;but Christopher bestirred himself, and brought wine and white bread, andvenison and honey, and said: "I pray thee to dine, maiden, for it is nowhard on noon; and as for my fair fellows, I look not for them before sunsetfor they were going far into the wood."
She smiled on him, and ate and drank a little deal, and he with her.Sooth to say, her heart was full, and though she had forgotten her fear, shewas troubled, because, for as glad as she was, she could not be as glad asher gladness would have her, for the sake of some lack, she knew notwhat.
Now spake Christopher: "I would tell thee something strange, to wit,though it is little more than three hours since I first saw thee beside theriver, yet I seem to know thee as if thou wert a part of my life."
She looked on him shyly, and he went on: "This also is strange, and,withal, it likes me not, that when I speak of my fair fellows here, David,and Gilbert, and Joanna, they are half forgotten to my heart, though theirnames are on my tongue; and this house, doth it like thee, fair guest?"
"Yea, much," she said; "it seems joyous to me: and I shall tell theethat I have mostly dwelt in unmerry houses, though they were of greatercost than this."
Said Christopher: "To me it hath been merry and happy enough; butnow it seems to me as if it had all been made for thee and this meeting."
"Is it therefore no longer merry to thee because of that?" she said,smiling, yet flushing much red therewith. Now it was his turn not toanswer her, and she cast down her eyes before him, and there was silencebetween them.
Then she looked at him steadily, and said: "It is indeed grievous thatthou shouldest forget thine old friends for me, and that it should havecome into thy mind that this fair and merry house was not made for thyfair fellows and thy delight with them, but for me, the chance-comer. For,hearken, whereas thou saidst e'en now, that I was become a part of thy life,how can that be? For if I become the poor captive again, how canst thouget to me, thou who art thyself a castaway, as thou hast told me? Yea, buteven so, I shall be too low for thee to come down to me. And if I becomewhat I should be, then I must tell thee that I shall be too high for thee toclimb up to me; so that in one way or other we shall be sundered, whohave but met for an hour or two."