was a coppice standing within a fair meadow.  Near by this wood, Eliduc and his comrades awaited the coming of Guillardun.  When Eliduc saw the lady, wrapped in her mantle, and his chamberlain leading her by the hand, he got from his horse, and kissed her right tenderly.  Great joy had his companions at so fair a sight.  He set her on the horse, and climbing before her, took bridle in glove, and returned to the haven, with all the speed he might.  He entered forthwith in the ship, which put to sea, having on board none, save Eliduc, his men, and his lady, Guillardun.  With a fair wind, and a quiet hour, the sailors thought that they would swiftly come to shore.  But when their journey was near its end, a sudden tempest arose on the sea.  A mighty wind drove them far from their harbourage, so that their rudder was broken, and their sail torn from the mast.  Devoutly they cried on St. Nicholas, St. Clement, and Madame St. Mary, to aid them in this peril.  They implored the Mother that she would approach her Son, not to permit them to perish, but to bring them to the harbour where they would come.  Without sail or oar, the ship drifted here and there, at the mercy of the storm.  They were very close to death, when one of the company, with a loud voice began to cry, “What need is there of prayers!  Sir, you have with you, her, who brings us to our death.  We shall never win to land, because you, who already have a faithful wife, seek to wed this foreign woman, against God and His law, against honour and your plighted troth.  Grant us to cast her in the sea, and straightway the winds and the waves will be still.”

When Eliduc heard these words he was like to come to harm for rage.

“Bad servant and felon traitor,” he cried, “you should pay dearly for your speech, if I might leave my lady.”

Eliduc held his friend fast in his arms, and cherished her as well as he was able.  When the lady heard that her knight was already wedded in his own realm, she swooned where she lay.  Her face became pale and discoloured; she neither breathed nor sighed, nor could any bring her any comfort.  Those who carried her to a sheltered place, were persuaded that she was but dead, because of the fury of the storm.  Eliduc was passing heavy.  He rose to his feet, and hastening to his squire, smote him so grievously with an oar, that he fell senseless on the deck.  He haled him by his legs to the side of the ship and flung the body in the sea, where it was swiftly swallowed by the waves.  He went to the broken rudder, and governed the nave so skilfully, that it presently drew to land.  So, having come to their fair haven, they cast anchor, and made fast their bridge to the shore.  Dame Guillardun lay yet in her swoon, and seemed no other than if she were really dead.  Eliduc’s sorrow was all the more, since he deemed that he had slain her with his hand.  He inquired of his companions in what near place they might lay the lady to her rest, “for I will not bid her