“Come then,” said Ralph, “thou needest not to fear the ancient house, for it is kind and lovely, and my father and my mother thou hast seen already, and they love thee.  Come then, lest the hall be grown too dusk for men to see thy fairness.”  “Yea, yea,” she said, “but first here is a garland I made for thee, and one also for me, while I was abiding thee after the battle, and my love and my hope is woven into it.”  And she set it on his head, and said, “O thou art fair, and I did well to meet thee in the dark wood.”  Then he kissed her dearly on the mouth and led her forth, and none went with them, and they mounted and went their ways.

But Ralph said:  “I deem that we should ride the meadow to the bridge, because that way lies the great door of the hall, and if I know my father and Nicholas they will look for us that way.  Dost thou yet fear these dead men, sweetheart, whom our folk slew this morning?” “Nay,” she said, “it has been a long time since the morning, and they, and their fieriness which has so burned out, are now to me as a tale that hath been told.  It is the living that I am going to, and I hope to do well by them.”

Came they then to the bridge-end and there was no man there, nought but the kine that were wandering about over the dewy grass of eventide.  Then they rode over the bridge and through the orchard, and still there was no man, and all gates were open wide.  So they came into the base-court of the house, and it also was empty of folk; and they came to the great doors of the hall and they were open wide, and they could see through them that the hall was full of folk, and therein by the light of the low sun that streamed in at the shot-window at the other end they saw the faces of men and the gleam of steel and gold.

So they lighted down from their horses, and took hand in hand and entered bright-faced and calm, and goodly beyond the goodliness of men; then indeed all that folk burst forth into glad cries, and tossed up their weapons, and many wept for joy.

As they went slowly up the long hall (and it was thirty fathom of length) Ralph looked cheerfully and friendly from side to side, and beheld the faces of the Shepherds and the Champions, and the men of Wulstead, and his own folk; and all they cried hail to him and the lovely and valiant Lady.  Then he looked up to the high-seat, and saw that his father’s throne was empty, and his mother’s also; but behind the throne stood a knight all armed in bright armour holding the banner of Upmeads; but his father and mother stood on the edge of the dais to meet him and Ursula; and when they came up thither these old folk embraced them and kissed them and led them up to the table.  Then Ralph bade Ursula sit by his mother, and made him ready to sit by his father in all love and duty.  But King Peter stayed him and said:  “Nay, dear son, not there, but here shalt thou sit, thou saviour of Upmeads and conqueror of the hearts of men; this is a little land, but therein shall be none above thee.”  And therewith he set Ralph down in the throne, and Ralph, turning to his left hand, saw that it was Ursula, and not his mother, who sat beside him.  But at the sight of these two in the throne the glad cries and shouts shook the very timbers of the roof, and the sun sank under while yet they cried hail to the King of Upmeads.