“Why, against our old, old enemy the Navailles, who, it seems, knows of our visit here, and, if he dared, would gladly make an end of us both.  So at least the fairy creature told me, imploring me, with sweetest solicitude, to be quickly gone, and to adventure myself in the woods alone no more.  I told her that our visit was well-nigh at an end, and that we purposed to reach England ere the autumn gales blew shrill.  At that she seemed mightily pleased, and yet she sighed when we said adieu.  Raymond, she was the loveliest maiden my eyes have ever beheld:  her hair like silk, and of the deepest golden hue; her eyes of the colour of violets nestling beneath brown winter leaves.  Her voice was like the rippling of a summer’s brook, and her form scarce of this earth, so light, so airy, so full of sylvan grace.  She was like the angelic being of a dream.  I have never seen a daughter of earth so fair.  Tell me, thinkest thou it was some dream?  Yet it is not my wont to slumber at my sport, and the little hand I held in mine throbbed with the warmth of life.”

“Asked you not her name and station?”

“Yea verily, but she would tell me naught; only the soft colour crept into her cheeks, and she turned her eyes for a moment away.  Raymond, I have heard men speak of love, but till that moment I knew not what they meant.  Now methinks I have a better understanding, for if yon sweet maiden had looked long into my eyes, my very soul would sure have gone out to her, and I should have straightway forgot all else in the world but herself.  Wherefore I wondered if she could be in truth a real and living being, or whether some woodland siren sent to lure man to death and destruction.”

Raymond smiled at the gravity of Gaston’s words.  Mystic as he was in many matters, he had outgrown that belief in woodland nymphs and sirens which had woven itself into their life whilst the spell of the forests remained upon them in their boyhood.  That evil and good spirits did hover about the path of humanity, Raymond sincerely believed; but he was equally certain that they took no tangible form, and that the vision Gaston had seen in the wood was no phantom form of spirit.

“Sure she came to try to warn and save,” he answered; “that should be answer enough.  Gaston, methinks we will take that warning.  We are still but striplings and our men are few, though brave and true.  The land is disturbed as in our memory it never was, and men are wild and lawless, none being strong enough to put down disorder.  Wherefore we had best be gone.  It is no true bravery to court danger, and our errand here is done.  When the King comes, as one day he will, to punish rebels and reward faithful loyalty, then we will come with him, and thou shalt seek out thy woodland nymph once more, and thank her for her good counsel.  Now wilt thou thank her best —­ seeing she came express to warn thee of coming peril —­ by taking her at her word.  Honest Jean and Margot will not seek to stay us longer.  They have a secret fear of the Sieur de Navailles.  We will not tell them all, but we will tell them something, and that will be enough.  Tomorrow will we take to horse again; and we will tell in the ears of the King how restless and oppressed by lawlessness and strife are his fair lands of Gascony.”