Now, as if these perils were not enough to put a man beside himself, there was another risk which, even more than these, took up my thoughts.  Among all my dangers and manifold distresses, this raised its head highest in my fancy, namely, the fear that my love should see me in my outlandish guise, clad in woman’s weeds, and carrying on my head a woman’s burden.  It was not so much that she must needs laugh and hold me in little account.  Elliot laughed often, so that now it was not her mirth, to which she was ever ready, but her wrath (whereto she was ready also) that I held in awful regard.  For her heart and faith, in a marvellous manner passing the love of women, were wholly set on this maid, in whose company I now fared.  And, if the Maid went in men’s attire (as needs she must, for modesty’s sake, who was about men’s business, in men’s company), here was I attending her in woman’s gear, as if to make a mock of her, though in my mind I deemed her no less than a sister of the saints.  And Elliot was sure to believe that I carried myself thus in mockery and to make laughter; for, at that time, there were many in France who mocked, as did that soldier whose death I had seen and caused.  Thus I stood in no more danger of death, great as was that risk, than in jeopardy of my mistress’s favour, which, indeed, of late I had been in some scant hope at last to win.  Thus, on all hands, I seemed to myself as sore bestead as ever man was, and on no side saw any hope of succour.

I mused so long and deep on these things, that the thought which might have helped me came to me too late, namely, to tell all my tale to the Maiden herself, and throw me on her mercy.  Nay, even when at last and late this light shone on my mind, I had shame to speak to her, considering the marvellous thing which I had just beheld of her, in the fulfilment of her prophecy.  But now my master’s house was in sight, at the turning from the steep stairs and the wynd, and there stood Elliot on the doorstep, watching and waiting for the Maid, as a girl may wait for her lover coming from the wars.

There was no time given me to slink back and skulk in the shadow of the corner of the wynd; for, like a greyhound in speed, Elliot had flown to us and was kneeling to the Maid, who, with a deep blush and some anger in her face—­for she loved no such obeisances—­bade her rise, and so kissed and embraced her, as young girls use among themselves when they are friends and fain of each other.  I had turned myself to go apart into the shadow of the corner, as secretly as I might, when I ran straight into the arms of the archer that followed close behind us.  On this encounter he gave a great laugh, and, I believe, would have kissed me; but, the Maiden looking round, he stood erect and grave as a soldier on guard, for the Maiden would suffer no light loves and daffing.