Then the Sage of Swevenham leaned across the board, and said:  “What word hath come out of thy mouth, my son?” Said Ralph, smiling on him:  “It is the last word which we have heard from thee of this matter, though verily it was spoken a while ago.  What wilt thou add to it as now?” “This,” quoth the Sage, “that I will leave thee no more till thou biddest me go from thee.  Was this word needful?”

Ralph reached his hand to him and said:  “It is well and more; but the road hence to Upmeads may yet be a rough one.”  “Yea,” said the Sage, “yet shall we come thither all living, unless my sight now faileth.”

Then Ursula rose up and came to the old man, and cast her arms about him and said:  “Yea, father, come with us, and let thy wisdom bless our roof-tree.  Wilt thou not teach our children wisdom; yea, maybe our children’s children, since thou art a friend of the Well?”

“I know not of the teaching of wisdom,” said the Sage; “but as to my going with thee, it shall be as I said e’en-now; and forsooth I looked for this bidding of thee to make naught of the word which I spoke ere yet I had learned wisdom of thee.”

Therewith were they merry, and fain of each other, and the evening wore amidst great content.

But when morning was come they gat to horse, and Ralph spake to Michael and said:  “Well, friend, now must thou ride alone to thy kindred, and may fair days befall thee in Swevenham.  But if thou deem at any time that matters go not so well with thee as thou wouldst, then turn thine head to Upmeads, and try it there, and we shall further thee all we may.”

Then came the Sage to Michael as he sat upon his horse, a stalwarth man of some forty winters, and said:  “Michael-a-dale, reach me thine hand.”  So did he, and the Sage looked into the palm thereof, and said:  “This man shall make old bones, and it is more like than not, King’s son, that he shall seek to thee at Upmeads ere he die.”  Said Ralph:  “His coming shall be a joy to us, how pleasant soever our life may be otherwise.  Farewell, Michael! all good go with thee for thine wholesome redes.”

So then Michael gave them farewell, and rode his ways to Swevenham, going hastily, as one who should hurry away from a grief.

But the three held on their way to Whitwall, and it was barely noon when they came to the gate thereof on a Saturday of latter May, It was a market-day, and the streets were thronged, and they looked on the folk and were fain of them, since they seemed to them to be something more than aliens.  The folk also looked on them curiously, and deemed them goodly, both the old man and the two knights, for they thought no otherwise of Ursula than that she was a carle.