But when Ralph had done the story (which was long, so that by then it was over it had been dark night some while), Richard said:  “Well, fosterling, thou hast seen much, and done much, and many would say that thou art a lucky man, and that more and much more lieth ready to thine hand.  Whither now wilt thou wend, or what wilt thou do?”

Ralph’s face reddened, as its wont had been when it was two years younger, at contention drawing nigh, and he answered:  “Where then should I go save to the House of my Fathers, and the fields that fed them?  What should I do but live amongst my people, warding them from evil, and loving them and giving them good counsel?  For wherefore should I love them less than heretofore?  Have they become dastards, and the fools of mankind?”

Quoth Richard:  “They are no more fools than they were belike, nor less valiant.  But thou art grown wiser and mightier by far; so that thou art another manner man than thou wert, and the Master of Masters maybe.  To Upmeads wilt thou go; but wilt thou abide there?  Upmeads is a fair land, but a narrow; one day is like another there, save when sorrow and harm is blent with it.  The world is wide, and now I deem that thou holdest the glory thereof in the hollow of thine hand.”

Then spake the Sage, and said:  “Yea, Richard of Swevenham, and how knowest thou but that this sorrow and trouble have not now fallen upon Upmeads?  And if that be so, upon whom should they call to their helping rather than him who can help them most, and is their very lord?” Said Richard:  “It may be so, wise man, though as yet we have heard no tidings thereof.  But if my lord goeth to their help, yet, when the trouble shall be over, will he not betake him thither where fresh deeds await him?”

“Nay, Richard,” said the Sage, “art thou so little a friend of thy fosterling as not to know that when he hath brought back peace to the land, it will be so that both he shall need the people, and they him, so that if he go away for awhile, yet shall he soon come back?  Yea, and so shall the little land, it may be, grow great.”

Now had Ralph sat quiet while this talk was going on, and as if he heeded not, and his eyes were set as if he were beholding something far away.  Then Richard spoke again after there had been silence awhile:  “Wise man, thou sayest sooth; yea, and so it is, that though we here have heard no tale concerning war in Upmeads, yet, as it were, we have been feeling some stirring of the air about us; even as though matters were changing, great might undone, and weakness grown to strength.  Who can say but our lord may find deeds to hand or ever he come to Upmeads?”

Ralph turned his head as one awaking from a dream, and he said:  “When shall to-morrow be, that we may get us gone from Whitwall, we three, and turn our faces toward Upmeads?”

Said Richard:  “Wilt thou not tarry a day or two, and talk with thine own mother’s son and tell him of thine haps?” “Yea,” said Ralph, “and so would I, were it not that my father’s trouble and my mother’s grief draw me away.”