“Yea, what then?” said Ralph.  “This then, fair young fool,” said she:  “the one whom thou lovest, long hath she lived, but she is not old to look on, nor foul; but fair—­O how fair!”

Then Ralph forgot his fear, and his heart grew greedy and his eyes glistened, and he said, yet he spoke faintly:  “Yea, is she fair?” “What! hast thou not seen her?” said the carline.  Ralph called to mind the guise in which he had seen her and flushed bright red, as he answered:  “Yea, I deem that I have:  surely it was she.”  The carline laughed:  “Well,” said she; “however thou hast seen her, thou hast scarce seen her as I have.”  Said Ralph, “How was that?” Said she:  “It is her way here in the summer-tide to bathe her in yonder pool up the water:”  (and it was the same pool wherein Ralph had bathed) “And she hath me and my niece and two other women to hold up the silken cloth betwixt her body and the world; so that I have seen her as God made her; and I shall tell thee that when he was about that work he was minded to be a craftsmaster; for there is no blemish about her that she should hide her at all or anywhere.  Her sides are sleek, and her thighs no rougher than her face, and her feet as dainty as her hands:  yea, she is a pearl all over, withal she is as strong as a knight, and I warrant her hardier of heart than most knights.  A happy man shalt thou be; for surely I deem thou hast not come hither to abide her without some token or warrant of her.”

Ralph held down his head, and he could not meet the old woman’s eyes as she spake thus; and the maiden took herself out of earshot at the first words of the carline hereof, and was halfway down to the river by now.

Ralph spake after a while and said:  “Tell me, is she good, and a good woman?” The dame laughed scornfully and said:  “Surely, surely; she is the saint of the Forest Land, and the guardian of all poor folk.  Ask the carles else!”

Ralph held his peace, and rose to be gone and turning saw the damsel wading the shallow ford, and looking over her shoulder at him.  He gave the dame good day, and departed light-foot but heavy hearted.  Yet as he went, he kept saying to himself:  “Did she not send that Roger to turn my ways hither? yet she cometh not.  Surely she hath changed in these last days, or it may be in these last hours:  yea, or this very hour.”

Amidst such thoughts he came into the wood, and made his way by the paths and open places, going south and east of the House:  whereas the last day he had gone west and north.  He went a soft pace, but wandered on without any stay till it was noon, and he had seen nought but the wild things of the wood, nor many of them.  But at last he heard the tinkle of a little bell coming towards him:  so he stood still and got the hilt of his sword ready to his hand; and the tinkle drew nearer, and he heard withal the trample of some riding-beast; so he went toward the sound, and presently in a clearer place