"
"Sooth is that," said Roger; "but there are other things in the tale."
"What things?" said Ralph. Quoth Roger: "Ill hap and sorrow
and the Hand of Fate and great Sorcery." "And dastards withal?"
said Ralph. "Even so," said Roger, "yet mingled with valiant men.
Over long is the tale to tell as now, so low as the sun is;
so now ride we on with little fear of foemen. For look you, this wood,
like the thickets about the Burg of the Four Friths, hath an evil name,
and few folk ride it uncompelled; therefore it is the safer for us.
And yet I will say this to thee, that whereas awhile agone thou mightest
have departed from me with little peril of aught save the stumbling
on some of the riders of the Burg of the Four Friths, departing from me
now will be a hard matter to thee; for the saints in Heaven only know
whitherward thou shouldest come, if thou wert to guide thyself now.
This a rough word, but a true one, so help me God and Saint Michael!
What sayest thou; art thou content, or wilt thou cast hard words
at me again?"
So it was that for all that had come and gone Ralph
was light-hearted and happy; so he laughed and said:
"Content were I, even if I were not compelled thereto.
For my heart tells me of new things, and marvellous and joyous
that I shall see ere long."
"And thine heart lieth not," said Roger, "for amidst of this
wood is the house where we shall have guesting to-night, which
will be to thee, belike, the door of life and many marvels.
Pages:
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134