“Where then is that Well?  Know ye of it in this land?”

“At least I know the hearsay thereof,” she said; “but as now thou shalt know no more from me thereof; lest thou wander the wider in seeking it.  I would not have thy life spilt.”

Ever as he looked on her he thought her still fairer; and now he looked long on her, saying nought, and she on him in likewise, and the blood rose to her cheeks and her brow, but she would not turn her from his gaze.  At last he said:  “Well then, I must depart, no more learned than I came:  but yet am I less hungry and thirsty than I came; and have thou thanks therefor.”

Therewith he took from his pouch a gold piece of Upmeads, which was good, and of the touch of the Easterlings, and held it out to her.  And she put out her open hand and he put the money in it; but thought it good to hold her hand a while, and she gainsayed him not.

Then he said:  “Well then, I must needs depart with things left as they are:  wilt thou bid thy brother bring hither my horse, for time presses.”

“Yea,” she said (and her hand was still in his), “Yet do thine utmost, yet shalt thou not get to the Burg before nightfall.  O wilt thou not tarry?”

“Nay,” he said, “my heart will not suffer it; lest I deem myself a dastard.”

Then she reddened again, but as if she were wroth; and she drew her hand away from his and smote her palms together thrice and cried out:  “Ho Hugh! bring hither the Knight’s horse and be speedy!”

And she went hither and thither about the hall and into the buttery and back, putting away the victual and vessels from the board and making as if she heeded him not:  and Ralph looked on her, and deemed that each way she moved was better than the last, so shapely of fashion she was; and again he bethought him of the Even-song of the High House at Upmeads, and how it befitted her; for she went barefoot after the manner of maidens who work afield, and her feet were tanned with the sun of hay harvest, but as shapely as might be; but she was clad goodly withal, in a green gown wrought with flowers.

So he watched her going to and fro; and at last he said:  “Maiden, wilt thou come hither a little, before I depart?”

“Yea,” she said; and came and stood before him:  and he deemed that she was scarce so sad as she had been; and she stood with her hands joined and her eyes downcast.  Then he said: 

“Now I depart.  Yet I would say this, that I am sorry of thy sorrow:  and now since I shall never see thee more, small would be the harm if I were to kiss thy lips and thy face.”

And therewith he took her hands in his and drew her to him, and put his arms about her and kissed her many times, and she nothing lothe by seeming; and he found her as sweet as May blossom.

Thereafter she smiled on him, yet scarce for gladness, and said:  “It is not all so sure that I shall not see thee again; yet shall I do to thee as thou hast done to me.”