And
as I went, I saw that her lover came again to her, and had his arm once
more about her; and so, maybe, they looked after me, as I went very
stiff and desperate; but, indeed, I looked not back on them, as you may
think. And for a great month then, I went not near to the gap; for my love
raged in me, and I was hurt in my pride; and, truly, neither had a true
justice been dealt to me by the Lady Mirdath. Yet in that month, my love
was a leaven in me, and made slowly a sweetness and a tenderness and an
understanding that were not in me before; and truly Love and Pain do
shape the Character of Man. And in the end of that time, I saw a little way into Life, with an
understanding heart, and began presently to take my walks again past the
gap; but truly Mirdath the Beautiful was never to my sight; though one
evening I thought she might be not a great way off; for one of her great
boar-hounds came out of the wood, and down into the road to nose against
me, very friendly, as a dog oft doth with me. Yet, though I waited a good time after the dog had left me, I had no
sight of Mirdath, and so passed on again, with my heart heavy in me; but
without bitterness, because of the understanding that was begun to grow
in my heart. Now, there passed two weary and lonely weeks, in which I grew sick to
have knowledge of the beautiful maid. And, truly, in the end of that
time, I made a sudden resolving that I would go in through the gap, and
come to the home-grounds about the Hall, and so maybe have some sight of
her. And this resolving I had one evening; and I went out immediately, and
came to the gap, and went in through the gap, and so by a long walking
to the gardens about the Hall. And, truly, when I was come there, I saw
a good light of lanthorns and torches, and a great company of people
dancing; and all drest in quaint dress; so that I knew they had a
festival for some cause. And there came suddenly a horrid dread into my
heart that this might be the marriage-dance of the Lady Mirdath; but,
indeed, this was foolishness; for I had surely heard of the marriage, if
there had been any. And, truly, in a moment, I remembered that she was
come one-and-twenty years of age on that day, and to the end of her
ward-ship; and this surely to be festival in honour of the same. And a very bright and pretty matter it was to watch, save that I was so
heavy in the heart with loneliness and longing; for the company was
great and gay, and the lights plentiful and set all about from the
trees; and in leaf-made arbours about the great lawn. And a great table
spread with eating matters and silver and crystal, and great lamps of
bronze and silver went all a-down one end of the lawn; and the dance
constant upon the other part. And surely, the Lady Mirdath to step out of the dance, very lovely
drest; yet seeming, to mine eyes, a little pale in the looming of the
lights. And she to wander to a seat to rest; and, indeed, in a moment,
there to be a dozen youths of the great families of the country-side, in
attendance about her, making talk and laughter, and each eager for her
favour; and she very lovely in the midst of them, but yet, as I did
think, lacking of somewhat, and a little pale-seeming, as I have told;
and her glance to go odd-wise beyond the groupt men about her; so that I
understood in a moment that her lover was not there, and she to be
a-lack in the heart for him. Yet, why he was not there, I could not
suppose, save that he might have been called back to the Court. And, surely, as I watched the other young men about her, I burned with a
fierce and miserable jealousy of them; so that I could near have stept
forth and plucked her out from among them, and had her to walk with me
in the woods, as in the olden days, when she also had seemed near to
love. But, truly, what use to this? For it was not they who held her
heart, as I saw plain; for I watched her, with an eager and lonesome
heart, and knew that it was one small man of the Court that was lover to
her, as I have told. And I went away again then, and came not near to the gap for three great
months, because that I could not bear the pain of my loss; but in the
end of that time, my very pain to urge me to go, and to be worse than
the pain of not going; so that I found myself one evening in the gap,
peering, very eager and shaken, across the sward that lay between the
gap and the woods; for this same place to be as an holy ground to me;
for there was it that first I saw Mirdath the Beautiful, and surely lost
my heart to her in that one night. And a great time I stayed there in the gap, waiting and watching
hopelessly. And lo! sudden there came something against me, touching my
thigh very soft; and when I looked down, it was one of the boar-hounds,
so that my heart leaped, near frightened; for truly My Lady was come
somewhere nigh, as I did think. And, as I waited, very hushed and watchful; yet with an utter beating
heart; surely I heard a faint and low singing among the trees, so utter
sad. And lo! it was Mirdath singing a broken love song, and a-wander
there in the dark alone, save for her great dogs. And I harked, with strange pain in me, that she did be so in pain; and I
ached to bring her ease; yet moved not, but was very still there in the
gap; save that my being was all in turmoil. And presently, as I harked, there came a slim white figure out from
among the trees; and the figure cried out something, and came to a quick
pause, as I could see in the half-dark. And lo! in that moment, there
came a sudden and unreasoned hope into me; and I came up out of the gap,
and was come to Mirdath in a moment, calling very low and passionate and
eager: "Mirdath! Mirdath! Mirdath!" And this way I came to her; and her great dog that was with me, to bound
beside me, in thought, mayhap, that it was some game. And when I came to
the Lady Mirdath, I held out my hands to her, not knowing what I did;
but only the telling of my heart that needed her so utter, and craved to
ease her of her pain. And lo! she put out her arms to me, and came into
mine arms with a little run. And there she bode, weeping strangely; but
yet with rest upon her; even as rest was come sudden and wondrous upon
me. And sudden, she moved in mine arms, and slipt her hands to me, very
dear, and held her lips up to me, like some sweet child, that I kiss
her; but, indeed, she was also a true woman, and in honest and dear love
of me. And this to be the way of our betrothal; and simple and wordless it was;
yet sufficient, only that there is no sufficiency in Love. Now, presently, she loosed herself out of mine arms, and we walked
homeward through the woods, very quiet, and holding hands, as children
do. And I then in a while to ask her about the man of the Court; and she
laughed very sweet into the silence of the wood; but gave me no answer,
save that I wait until we were come to the Hall.