“What like was she?” said Ralph.  Said the carle:  “She was somewhat tall, if I am to note such matters, grey-eyed and brown haired, and great abundance of it.  Her lips very red; her cheeks tanned with the sun, but in such wise that her own white and red shone through the sun’s painting, so that her face was as sweet as the best wheat-ear in a ten-acre field when the season hath been good.  Her hands were not like those of a demoiselle who sitteth in a chamber to be looked at, but brown as of one who hath borne the sickle in the sun.  But when she stretched out her hand so that the wrist of her came forth from her sleeve it was as white as milk.”

“Well, my man,” said the carline, “thou hast a good memory for an old and outworn carle.  Why dost thou not tell the young knight what she was clad withal; since save for their raiment all women of an age are much alike?”

“Nay, do thou do it,” said the carle; “she was even as fair as I have said; so that there be few like her.”

Said the dame:  “Well, there is naught so much to be said for her raiment:  her gown was green, of fine cloth enough; but not very new:  welts of needle-work it had on it, and a wreath of needle-work flowers round the hem of the skirt; but a cantle was torn off from it; in the scuffle when she was taken, I suppose, so that it was somewhat ragged in one place.  Furthermore—­”

She had been looking at Ralph as she spoke, and now she broke off suddenly, and said, still looking at him hard; “Well, it is strange!” “What is strange?” said Clement.  “O naught, naught,” said the dame, “save that folk should make so much to do about this matter, when there are so many coming and going about the Midhouse of the Mountains.”

But Ralph noted that she was still staring at him even after she had let the talk drop.

Waned the even, and folk began to go bedward, so that the hall grew thin of guests.  Then came up the carline to Ralph and took him aside into a nook, and said to him:  “Young knight, now will I tell thee what seemed to me strange e’en now; to wit, that the captive damsel should be bearing a necklace about her neck as like to thine as one lamb is to another:  but I thought thou mightest be liever that I spake it not openly before all the other folk.  So I held my peace.”

“Dame,” said he, “I thank thee:  forsooth I fear sorely that this damsel is my sister; for ever we have worn the samelike pair of beads.  And as for me I have come hither to find her, and evil will it be if I find her enthralled, and it may be past redemption.”

And therewith he gave her a piece of the gold money of Upmeads.