Chapter Chapter 10 · WALTER HAPPENETH ON ANOTHER CREATURE IN THE STRANGE LAND

. WALTER HAPPENETH ON ANOTHER CREATURE IN THE STRANGE LAND

But as he went on through the fair and sweet land so bright and

sun-litten, and he now rested and fed, the horror and fear ran off from

him, and he wandered on merrily, neither did aught befall him save the

coming of night, when he laid him down under a great spreading oak with

his drawn sword ready to hand, and fell asleep at once, and woke not till

the sun was high.

Then he arose and went on his way again; and the land was no worser than

yesterday; but even better, it might be; the greensward more flowery, the

oaks and chestnuts greater. Deer of diverse kinds he saw, and might

easily have got his meat thereof; but he meddled not with them since he

had his bread, and was timorous of lighting a fire. Withal he doubted

little of having some entertainment; and that, might be, nought evil;

since even that fearful dwarf had been courteous to him after his kind,

and had done him good and not harm. But of the happening on the Wretch

and the Thing, whereof the dwarf spake, he was yet somewhat afeard.

After he had gone a while and whenas the summer morn was at its

brightest, he saw a little way ahead a grey rock rising up from amidst of

a ring of oak-trees; so he turned thither straightway; for in this plain-

land he had seen no rocks heretofore; and as he went he saw that there

was a fountain gushing out from under the rock, which ran thence in a

fair little stream. And when he had the rock and the fountain and the

stream clear before him, lo! a child of Adam sitting beside the fountain

under the shadow of the rock. He drew a little nigher, and then he saw

that it was a woman, clad in green like the sward whereon she lay. She

was playing with the welling out of the water, and she had trussed up her

sleeves to the shoulder that she might thrust her bare arms therein. Her

shoes of black leather lay on the grass beside her, and her feet and legs

yet shone with the brook.

Belike amidst the splashing and clatter of the water she did not hear him

drawing nigh, so that he was close to her before she lifted up her face

and saw him, and he beheld her, that it was the maiden of the thrice-seen

pageant. She reddened when she saw him, and hastily covered up her legs

with her gown-skirt, and drew down the sleeves over her arms, but

otherwise stirred not. As for him, he stood still, striving to speak to

her; but no word might he bring out, and his heart beat sorely.

But the maiden spake to him in a clear sweet voice, wherein was now no

trouble: "Thou art an alien, art thou not? For I have not seen thee

before."

"Yea," he said, "I am an alien; wilt thou be good to me?"

She said: "And why not? I was afraid at first, for I thought it had been

the King's Son. I looked to see none other; for of goodly men he has

been the only one here in the land this long while, till thy coming."

He said: "Didst thou look for my coming at about this time?"

"O nay," she said; "how might I?"

Said Walter: "I wot not; but the other man seemed to be looking for me,

and knew of me, and he brought me bread to eat."

She looked on him anxiously, and grew somewhat pale, as she said: "What

other one?"

Now Walter did not know what the dwarf might be to her, fellow-servant or

what not, so he would not show his loathing of him; but answered wisely:

"The little man in the yellow raiment."

But when she heard that word, she went suddenly very pale, and leaned her

head aback, and beat the air with her hands; but said presently in a

faint voice: "I pray thee talk not of that one while I am by, nor even

think of him, if thou mayest forbear."

He spake not, and she was a little while before she came to herself

again; then she opened her eyes, and looked upon Walter and smiled kindly

on him, as though to ask his pardon for having scared him. Then she rose

up in her place, and stood before him; and they were nigh together, for

the stream betwixt them was little.

But he still looked anxiously upon her and said: "Have I hurt thee? I

pray thy pardon."

She looked on him more sweetly still, and said: "O nay; thou wouldst not

hurt me, thou!"

Then she blushed very red, and he in like wise; but afterwards she turned

pale, and laid a hand on her breast, and Walter cried out hastily: "O me!

I have hurt thee again. Wherein have I done amiss?"

"In nought, in nought," she said; "but I am troubled, I wot not

wherefore; some thought hath taken hold of me, and I know it not.

Mayhappen in a little while I shall know what troubles me. Now I bid

thee depart from me a little, and I will abide here; and when thou comest

back, it will either be that I have found it out or not; and in either

case I will tell thee."

She spoke earnestly to him; but he said: "How long shall I abide away?"

Her face was troubled as she answered him: "For no long while."

He smiled on her and turned away, and went a space to the other side of

the oak-trees, whence she was still within eyeshot. There he abode until

the time seemed long to him; but he schooled himself and forbore; for he

said: Lest she send me away again. So he abided until again the time

seemed long to him, and she called not to him: but once again he forbore

to go; then at last he arose, and his heart beat and he trembled, and he

walked back again speedily, and came to the maiden, who was still

standing by the rock of the spring, her arms hanging down, her eyes

downcast. She looked up at him as he drew nigh, and her face changed

with eagerness as she said: "I am glad thou art come back, though it be

no long while since thy departure" (sooth to say it was scarce half an

hour in all). "Nevertheless I have been thinking many things, and

thereof will I now tell thee."

He said: "Maiden, there is a river betwixt us, though it be no big one.

Shall I not stride over, and come to thee, that we may sit down together

side by side on the green grass?"

"Nay," she said, "not yet; tarry a while till I have told thee of

matters. I must now tell thee of my thoughts in order."

Her colour went and came now, and she plaited the folds of her gown with

restless fingers. At last she said: "Now the first thing is this; that

though thou hast seen me first only within this hour, thou hast set thine

heart upon me to have me for thy speech-friend and thy darling. And if

this be not so, then is all my speech, yea and all my hope, come to an

end at once."

"O yea!" said Walter, "even so it is: but how thou hast found this out I

wot not; since now for the first time I say it, that thou art indeed my

love, and my dear and my darling."

"Hush," she said, "hush! lest the wood have ears, and thy speech is loud:

abide, and I shall tell thee how I know it. Whether this thy love shall

outlast the first time that thou holdest my body in thine arms, I wot

not, nor dost thou. But sore is my hope that it may be so; for I also,

though it be but scarce an hour since I set eyes on thee, have cast mine

eyes on thee to have thee for my love and my darling, and my

speech-friend. And this is how I wot that thou lovest me, my friend. Now

is all this dear and joyful, and overflows my heart with sweetness. But

now must I tell thee of the fear and the evil which lieth behind it."

Then Walter stretched out his hands to her, and cried out: "Yea, yea! But

whatever evil entangle us, now we both know these two things, to wit,

that thou lovest me, and I thee, wilt thou not come hither, that I may

cast mine arms about thee, and kiss thee, if not thy kind lips or thy

friendly face at all, yet at least thy dear hand: yea, that I may touch

thy body in some wise?"

She looked on him steadily, and said softly: "Nay, this above all things

must not be; and that it may not be is a part of the evil which entangles

us. But hearken, friend, once again I tell thee that thy voice is over

loud in this wilderness fruitful of evil. Now I have told thee, indeed,

of two things whereof we both wot; but next I must needs tell thee of

things whereof I wot, and thou wottest not. Yet this were better, that

thou pledge thy word not to touch so much as one of my hands, and that we

go together a little way hence away from these tumbled stones, and sit

down upon the open greensward; whereas here is cover if there be spying

abroad."

Again, as she spoke, she turned very pale; but Walter said: "Since it

must be so, I pledge thee my word to thee as I love thee."

And therewith she knelt down, and did on her foot-gear, and then sprang

lightly over the rivulet; and then the twain of them went side by side

some half a furlong thence, and sat down, shadowed by the boughs of a

slim quicken-tree growing up out of the greensward, whereon for a good

space around was neither bush nor brake.

There began the maiden to talk soberly, and said: "This is what I must

needs say to thee now, that thou art come into a land perilous for any

one that loveth aught of good; from which, forsooth, I were fain that

thou wert gotten away safely, even though I should die of longing for

thee. As for myself, my peril is, in a measure, less than thine; I mean

the peril of death. But lo, thou, this iron on my foot is token that I

am a thrall, and thou knowest in what wise thralls must pay for

transgressions. Furthermore, of what I am, and how I came hither, time

would fail me to tell; but somewhile, maybe, I shall tell thee. I serve

an evil mistress, of whom I may say that scarce I wot if she be a woman

or not; but by some creatures is she accounted for a god, and as a god is

heried; and surely never god was crueller nor colder than she. Me she

hateth sorely; yet if she hated me little or nought, small were the gain

to me if it were her pleasure to deal hardly by me. But as things now

are, and are like to be, it would not be for her pleasure, but for her

pain and loss, to make an end of me, therefore, as I said e'en now, my

mere life is not in peril with her; unless, perchance, some sudden

passion get the better of her, and she slay me, and repent of it

thereafter. For so it is, that if it be the least evil of her conditions

that she is wanton, at least wanton she is to the letter. Many a time

hath she cast the net for the catching of some goodly young man; and her

latest prey (save it be thou) is the young man whom I named, when first I

saw thee, by the name of the King's Son. He is with us yet, and I fear

him; for of late hath he wearied of her, though it is but plain truth to

say of her, that she is the wonder of all Beauties of the World. He hath

wearied of her, I say, and hath cast his eyes upon me, and if I were

heedless, he would betray me to the uttermost of the wrath of my

mistress. For needs must I say of him, though he be a goodly man, and

now fallen into thralldom, that he hath no bowels of compassion; but is a

dastard, who for an hour's pleasure would undo me, and thereafter would

stand by smiling and taking my mistress's pardon with good cheer, while

for me would be no pardon. Seest thou, therefore, how it is with me

between these two cruel fools? And moreover there are others of whom I

will not even speak to thee."

And therewith she put her hands before her face, and wept, and murmured:

"Who shall deliver me from this death in life?"

But Walter cried out: "For what else am I come hither, I, I?"

And it was a near thing that he did not take her in his arms, but he

remembered his pledged word, and drew aback from her in terror, whereas

he had an inkling of why she would not suffer it; and he wept with her.

But suddenly the Maid left weeping, and said in a changed voice: "Friend,

whereas thou speakest of delivering me, it is more like that I shall

deliver thee. And now I pray thy pardon for thus grieving thee with my

grief, and that more especially because thou mayst not solace thy grief

with kisses and caresses; but so it was, that for once I was smitten by

the thought of the anguish of this land, and the joy of all the world

besides."

Therewith she caught her breath in a half-sob, but refrained her and went

on: "Now dear friend and darling, take good heed to all that I shall say

to thee, whereas thou must do after the teaching of my words. And first,

I deem by the monster having met thee at the gates of the land, and

refreshed thee, that the Mistress hath looked for thy coming; nay, by thy

coming hither at all, that she hath cast her net and caught thee. Hast

thou noted aught that might seem to make this more like?"

Said Walter: "Three times in full daylight have I seen go past me the

images of the monster and thee and a glorious lady, even as if ye were

alive."

And therewith he told her in few words how it had gone with him since

that day on the quay at Langton.

She said: "Then it is no longer perhaps, but certain, that thou art her

latest catch; and even so I deemed from the first: and, dear friend, this

is why I have not suffered thee to kiss or caress me, so sore as I longed

for thee. For the Mistress will have thee for her only, and hath lured

thee hither for nought else; and she is wise in wizardry (even as some

deal am I), and wert thou to touch me with hand or mouth on my naked

flesh, yea, or were it even my raiment, then would she scent the savour

of thy love upon me, and then, though it may be she would spare thee, she

would not spare me."

Then was she silent a little, and seemed very downcast, and Walter held

his peace from grief and confusion and helplessness; for of wizardry he

knew nought.

At last the Maid spake again, and said: "Nevertheless we will not die

redeless. Now thou must look to this, that from henceforward it is thee,

and not the King's Son, whom she desireth, and that so much the more that

she hath not set eyes on thee. Remember this, whatsoever her seeming may

be to thee. Now, therefore, shall the King's Son be free, though he know

it not, to cast his love on whomso he will; and, in a way, I also shall

be free to yeasay him. Though, forsooth, so fulfilled is she with malice

and spite, that even then she may turn round on me to punish me for doing

that which she would have me do. Now let me think of it."

Then was she silent a good while, and spoke at last: "Yea, all things are

perilous, and a perilous rede I have thought of, whereof I will not tell

thee as yet; so waste not the short while by asking me. At least the

worst will be no worse than what shall come if we strive not against it.

And now, my friend, amongst perils it is growing more and more perilous

that we twain should be longer together. But I would say one thing yet;

and maybe another thereafter. Thou hast cast thy love upon one who will

be true to thee, whatsoever may befall; yet is she a guileful creature,

and might not help it her life long, and now for thy very sake must needs

be more guileful now than ever before. And as for me, the guileful, my

love have I cast upon a lovely man, and one true and simple, and a stout-

heart; but at such a pinch is he, that if he withstand all temptation,

his withstanding may belike undo both him and me. Therefore swear we

both of us, that by both of us shall all guile and all falling away be

forgiven on the day when we shall be free to love each the other as our

hearts will."

Walter cried out: "O love, I swear it indeed! thou art my Hallow, and I

will swear it as on the relics of a Hallow; on thy hands and thy feet I

swear it."

The words seemed to her a dear caress; and she laughed, and blushed, and

looked full kindly on him; and then her face grew solemn, and she said:

"On thy life I swear it!"

Then she said: "Now is there nought for thee to do but to go hence

straight to the Golden House, which is my Mistress's house, and the only

house in this land (save one which I may not see), and lieth southward no

long way. How she will deal with thee, I wot not; but all I have said of

her and thee and the King's Son is true. Therefore I say to thee, be

wary and cold at heart, whatsoever outward semblance thou mayst make. If

thou have to yield thee to her, then yield rather late than early, so as

to gain time. Yet not so late as to seem shamed in yielding for fear's

sake. Hold fast to thy life, my friend, for in warding that, thou

wardest me from grief without remedy. Thou wilt see me ere long; it may

be to-morrow, it may be some days hence. But forget not, that what I may

do, that I am doing. Take heed also that thou pay no more heed to me, or

rather less, than if thou wert meeting a maiden of no account in the

streets of thine own town. O my love! barren is this first farewell, as

was our first meeting; but surely shall there be another meeting better

than the first, and the last farewell may be long and long yet."

Therewith she stood up, and he knelt before her a little while without

any word, and then arose and went his ways; but when he had gone a space

he turned about, and saw her still standing in the same place; she stayed

a moment when she saw him turn, and then herself turned about.

So he departed through the fair land, and his heart was full with hope

and fear as he went.