Having taken farewell of the maiden, Eliduc came forth from the chapel, and closed the doors.  He sent messages to his wife, that he was returning to his house, but weary and overborne.  When the dame heard these tidings, she was happy in her heart, and made ready to greet him.  She received her lord tenderly; but little joy came of her welcome, for she got neither smiles in answer, nor tender words in return.  She dared not inquire the reason, during the two days Eliduc remained in the house.  The knight heard Mass very early in the morning, and then set forth on the road leading to the chapel where the maiden lay.  He found her as he had parted, for she had not come back from her swoon, and there was neither stir in her, nor breath.  He marvelled greatly, for he saw her, vermeil and white, as he had known her in life.  She had lost none of her sweet colour, save that she was a little blanched.  He wept bitterly above her, and entreated for her soul.  Having made his prayer, he went again to his house.

On a day when Eliduc went forth, his wife called to her a varlet of her household, commanding him to follow his lord afar off, and mark where he went, and on what business.  She promised to give him harness and horses, if he did according to her will.  The varlet hid himself in the wood, and followed so cunningly after his lord, that he was not perceived.  He watched the knight enter the chapel, and heard the cry and lamentation that he made.  When Eliduc came out, the varlet hastened to his mistress, and told her what he had seen, the tears and dolour, and all that befell his lord within the hermitage.  The lady summoned all her courage.

“We will go together, as soon as we may, to this hermitage.  My lord tells me that he rides presently to the Court to speak with the King.  I knew that my husband loved this dead hermit very tenderly, but I little thought that his loss would make him mad with grief.”

The next day the dame let her lord go forth in peace.  When, about noon, Eliduc rode to the Court to greet his King, the lady rose quickly, and carrying the varlet with her, went swiftly to the hermitage.  She entered the chapel, and saw the bed upon the altar-pace, and the maiden thereon, like a new sprung rose.  Stooping down the lady removed the mantle.  She marked the rigid body, the long arms, and the frail white hands, with their slender fingers, folded on the breast.  Thus she learned the secret of the sorrow of her lord.  She called the varlet within the chapel, and showed him this wonder.

“Seest thou,” she said, “this woman, who for beauty shineth as a gem!  This lady, in her life, was the lover of my lord.  It was for her that all his days were spoiled by grief.  By my faith I marvel little at his sorrow, since I, who am a woman too, will—­for pity’s sake or love—­never know joy again, having seen so fair a lady in the dust.”