Child Christopher and Goldilind the Fair Page 5

  Then she went slowly down the garden, treading the greensward beside theflowers; and she looked on the hold, and the low sun gilded the wallsthereof and glittered in a window here and there, and though there wason her a foreboding of the hours of that day, she did what she mightto make the best of the fragrant May morning and the song of birds andrustle of leaves, though, indeed, at whiles the tears would gush out ofher eyes when she thought how young she was and how feeble, and the pityof herself became sweet unto her.

  CHAPTER XIII. OF GOLDILIND IN THE GARTH.

  Now, as she went in that garden with her face turned toward the posternwhich led into the open space of the greenwood, which was but twobow-shots from the thicket, she heard the clatter of horse-hoofs on theloose stones of the path, and how they stopped at the said postern; andpresently there was a key in the lock, the door opened, and a man camein walking stiffly, like a rider who has ridden far and fast. He wasclad in jack and sallet, and had a sword by his side, and on his sleevewas done in green and gold a mountain aflame; so that Goldilind knew himat once for a man of Earl Geoffrey's; and, indeed, she had seen theman before, coming and going on errands that she knew nought of, andon which nothing followed that was of import to her. Therefore, asshe watched him cross the garden and go straight up to the door of theForesters' Tower, and take out another key and enter, she heeded him butlittle, nor did his coming increase her trouble a whit.

  She walked on toward the postern, and now she saw that the errand-bearerhad left it open behind him, and when she came close up to it, she sawhis horse tied to a ring in the wall, a strong and good bay nag. Thesight of him, and the glimpse of the free and open land, stirred in herthe misery of her days and the yearning for the loveliness of the worldwithout, converse of friends, hope of the sufficiency of desire, and thesweetness of love returned. And so strong a wave of anguish swept overher, that she bowed her down upon the grass and wept bitterly. Yet buta little while it lasted; she rose up presently and looked warily allround her, and up to the Castle, and saw none stirring; she drew up theskirts of her green gown into her girdle, till the hem but just hid herknees; then she stepped lightly through the half-open door with flushedcheeks and glittering eyes, while her heart rose within her; then shelifted her hand, unhitched the reins from the iron ring, and quietlyled the horse close under the garth-wall, and stole gently up theslope which, as all roads from the Castle, went straightway toward thethicket, but this was the straightest. So she went, till she came to thecorner of the garth-wall, and a little further; and the Castle on thatside was blind, save for the swale on the battlement, whereon in thatdeep peace was little going; and, moreover, it was not even yet sixo'clock.

  CHAPTER XIV. GOLDILIND GOES FREE.

  There then she stayed the horse, and, flushed and panting, got lightlyinto the saddle and bestrode it, and, leaning over on the beast's neck,smote his flanks with her heels; the horse was fresh, though hismaster had been weary, whereas the said messenger had gotten him froma forester some six miles away in the wood that morning, so the naganswered to her call for speed, and she went a great gallop into thewood, and was hidden in a twinkling from any eyes that might be lookingout of the Castle.

  Without checking the nag she sped along, half mad with joy at thefreedom of this happy morn. Nigh aimless she was, but had an inklingthat it were well with her if she could hold northward ever; for the oldman aforesaid had told her of Oakenrealm, and how it lay northward ofthem; so that way she drifted as the thicket would suffer her. When shehad gone as much of a gallop as she might for some half hour, she drewrein to breathe her nag, and hearkened; she turned in the saddle, butheard nought to affright her, so she went on again, but some what moresoberly; and thuswise she rode for some two hours, and the day waxedhot, and she was come to a clear pool amidst of a little clearing,covered with fine greensward right down to the water's edge.

  There she made stay, and got off her horse, and stood awhile by himas he cropped the sweet grass; and the birds sang at the edge of thethicket, and the rabbits crept and gambolled on the other side of thewater; and from the pool's edge the moorhens cried. She stood halfleaning against the side of the horse till she became somewhat drowsy;yea, and even dreamed a little, and that little but ill, it seemed, asshe gave a troubled cry and shrank together and turned pale. Then sherubbed her eyes and smiled, and turned to the pool, where now a littleripple was running over the face of it, and a thought came upon her,and she set her hand to the clasp of her gown and undid it, and drew thegown off her shoulders, and so did off all her raiment, and stoodnaked a little on the warm sunny grass, and then bestirred her and wentlightly into the pool, and bathed and sported there, and then came on tothe grass again, and went to and fro to dry her in the air and sun. Thenshe did on her raiment again, and laid her down under a thorn-bushby the pool-side, and there, would she, would she not, went to sleepsoundly and dreamed not. And when she awoke she deemed her sleep hadbeen long, but it was not so, but scarce a score of minutes. Anyhow, shesprang up now and went to her horse, and drew the girths tight (whichshe had loosed erewhile,) and so bestrode the good horse, and shook thereins, and rode away much comforted and enheartened.

  CHAPTER XV. OF GOLDILIND IN THE WILD-WOOD.

  Goldilind rode on, hastening yet to put as many miles as she mightbetwixt her and Greenharbour. Within a three hours from her bathing shefell a-hungering sore, and knew not what to do to eat, till she found apouch made fast to the saddle-bow, and therein a little white loaf, thatand no more, which she took and ate the half of with great joy, sittingdown by a brook-side, whence she had her drink.

  Then again she mounted, and rode on till dusk overtook her just as shecame to a little river running from the north from pool to shallow, andshallow to pool. And whereas she was now exceeding weary, and the goodhorse also much spent, and that the grass was very sweet and soft downto the water's edge, and that there was a thick thorn-bush to cover her,she made up her mind that this place should be her bed-chamber. So shetook saddle and bridle off the horse, as he must needs bite the grass,and then when she had eaten the other half of her bread, she laid herdown on the green grass, with her head on the saddle, and when she hadlain listening to the horse cropping the grass close anigh her fora minute or two, she fell fast asleep, and lay there long and had nodreams.

  CHAPTER XVI. WHAT GOLDILIND FOUND IN THE WOOD.

  When she awoke it was broad day and bright sun, and she rose up to herfeet and looked about, and saw the horse standing close by, and sharingthe shade with her, whisking his tail about lazily. Then she turned,and saw the stream rippling out from the pool over the clean gravel, andhere and there a fish darting through the ripple, or making clean ringson the pool as he quietly took a fly; the sky was blue and clear, therewas scarce a breath of air, and the morning was already hot; no worsethan yesterday sang the birds in the bushes; but as she looked acrossthe river, where, forsooth, the alders grew thick about the pool's edge,a cock blackbird, and then another, flew out from the close boughs,where they had been singing to their mates, with the sharp cry that theyuse when they are frighted. Withal she saw the bush move, though, asaforesaid, the morning was without wind. She had just stooped to do offher foot-gear (for she was minded to bathe again), but now she stoppedwith one shoe in her hand, and looked on the bushes keenly with beatingheart, and again she thought she saw the boughs shaken, and stood, notdaring to move a while; but they moved no more now when she had lookedsteadily at them a space, and again a blackbird began singing loud justwhere they had been shaken. So she gathered heart again, and presentlyturned her hand once more to stripping her raiment off her, for shewould not be baulked of her bath; but when the stripping was done,she loitered not naked on the bank as she had done the day before, butwalked swiftly into the shallow, and thence down into the pool, tillnothing but her head and the whiteness of her shoulders showed over thedark water. Even then she turned her head about twice to look into theover-side bushes, but when she saw nothing stir there she began to playin the water, but not for
long, but came splashing through the shallowand hurried on her raiment.

  When she was clad again she went up to the horse, and patted andcaressed him, and did bridle and saddle on him, and was going to climbupon him, when, of a sudden, she thought she would lead him across, lestthere should be a hole near the other bank and he might stumble intoit unwarily; so she bared her feet once more and trussed up her gownskirts, and so took the ford, leading the beast; the water was nowhereup to mid-leg of her, and she stepped ashore on to short and fine grass,which spread like a meadow before her, with a big thorn or two scatteredabout it, and a little grassy hill beset with tall elms toward the top,coming down into the flat of the meadow and drawing round it nearly upto the river on the north side.

  But now she stood staring in wonder and some deal of fear; for therewere three milch kine feeding on the meadow, and, moreover, under athorn, scarce a hundred yards from where she stood, was a tall manstanding gazing on her. So stricken was she that she might neither cryout nor turn aside; neither did she think to pull her gown out of hergirdle to cover the nakedness of her legs.

  When they had thus stood a little while the man began to move towardher very slowly, nor did she dare to flee any the more. But when he waswithin half a dozen paces her face flushed red, and she did pull hergown out of its trusses and let it flow down. But he spake to her in apleasant voice, and said: "May I speak to thee, maiden?"

  Fear was yet in her soul, so that she might not speak for a little, andthen she said: "O, I beseech thee, bring me not back to Greenharbour!"And she paled sorely as she spake the word.

  But he said: "I wot not of Greenharbour, how to find the way thereto,though we have heard of it. But comfort thyself, I pray thee, there isnought to fear in me."

  The sound of his voice was full pleasant to her, and when she hearkenedhim, how kind and frank it was, then she knew how much of terror wasblent with her joy in her newly-won freedom and the delight of the kindand happy words. Yet still she spoke not, and was both shamefast andstill not altogether unafraid. Yet, sooth to say, though his attire wasbut simple, he was nought wild or fierce to look on. From time to timeshe looked on him, and then dropped her eyes again. In those glances shesaw that he was grey-eyed, and smooth-cheeked, and round-chinned, andhis hair curly and golden; and she must needs think that she had neverseen any face half so fair. He was clad but in a green coat that camenot down to his knees, and brogues were tied to his feet, and no moreraiment he had; and for hat he had made him a garland of white mayblossom, and well it sat there: and again she looked on him, and thoughthim no worse than the running angel that goes before the throne of Godin the picture of the choir of Meadhamstead; and she looked on him andmarvelled.

  Now she hung her head before him and wished he would speak, and even sodid he, and said: "Maiden, when I first saw thee from amidst of the bushby the river yonder, I deemed thou wert a wood-wight, or some one of theshe-Gods of the Gentiles come back hither. For this is a lonely place,and some might deem that the Devil hath might here more than in otherplaces; and when I saw thee, that thou wouldst do off thy raiment tobathe thee, though soothly I longed to lie hidden there, I feared thee,lest thou shouldst be angry with me if I were to see thee unclad; so Icame away; yet I went not far, for I was above all things yearning tosee thee; and sooth it is, that hadst thou not crossed the water, Ishould presently have crossed it myself to seek thee, wert thou Goddess,or wood-wife, or whatever might have come of it. But now thou art cometo us, and I have heard thy voice beseeching me not to bring thee toGreenharbour, I see that thou art a woman of the kindred of Adam. Andyet so it is, that even now I fear thee somewhat. Yet I will pray theenot to be wroth if I ask thee whether I may do aught for thy need."

  Now she began somewhat to smile, and she looked him full in the face,and said: "Forsooth, my need is simple, for I am hungry."

  He smote himself on the breast, and said: "See now, what a great fool Iam, not to have known it without telling, instead of making long-windedtalk about myself. Come quickly, dear maiden, and leave thine horse tocrop the grass."

  So he hurried on to the thorn-bush aforesaid, and she went foot to footwith him, but he touched her not; and straightway she sat her down onthe root of the thorn, and smiled frankly on him, and said:

  "Nay, sir, and now thou hast made me go all this way I am out of breathand weary, so I pray thee of the victual at once."

  But he had been busy with his scrip which he had left cast down there,and therewithal reached out to her a mighty hunch of bread and a pieceof white cheese, and said:

  "Now shall I fetch thee milk." Wherewith he took up a bowl of aspen treethat had lain by the scrip, and ran off to one of the kine and milkedthe bowl full, and came back with it heedfully, and set it down besideher and said: "This was the nighest thing to hand, but when thou hasteaten and rested then shall we go to our house, if thou wilt be so kindto me; for there have we better meat and wine to boot."

  She looked up at him smiling, but her pleasure of the meat and thekindness was so exceeding, that she might not refrain from tears also,but she spake not.

  As for him, he knelt beside her, looking on her wistfully; and at lasthe said: "I shall tell thee, that I am glad that thou wert hungry andthat I have seen thee eating, else might I have deemed thee somewhatother than a woman of mankind even yet."

  She said: "Yea, and why wouldst thou not believe my word thereto?"

  He said, reddening: "I almost fear to tell thee, lest thou think meoverbold and be angry with me."

  "Nay," she said, "tell me, for I would know."

  Said he: "The words are not easy in my rude mouth; but this is whatI mean: that though I be young I have seen fair women not a few, butbeside any of them thou art a wonder;....and loth I were if thou wertnot really of mankind, if it were but for the glory of the world."

  She hung her head and answered nought a while, and he also seemedashamed: but presently she spake: "Thou hast been kind to us, wouldstthou tell us thy name? and then, if it like thee, what thou art?"

  "Lady," he said, "my name is easy to tell, I hight Christopher; andwhiles folk in merry mockery call me Christopher King; meseems because Iam of the least account of all carles. As for what else I am, a woodmanI am, an outlaw, and the friend of them: yet I tell thee I have neverby my will done any harm to any child of man; and those friends of mine,who are outlaws also, are kind and loving with me, both man and woman,though needs must they dwell aloof from kings' courts and barons'halls."

  She looked at him wondering, and as if she did not altogether understandhim; and she said: "Where dost thou dwell?"

  He said: "To-day I dwell hard by; though where I shall dwell to-morrow,who knows? And with me are dwelling three of my kind fellows; and thedearest is a young man of mine own age, who is my fellow in all matters,for us to live and die each for the other. Couldst thou have seen him,thou wouldst love him I deem."

  "What name hath he?" said Goldilind.

  "He hight David," said Christopher.

  But therewith he fell silent and knit his brow, as though he werethinking of some knotty point: but in a while his face cleared, and hesaid: "If I durst, I would ask thee thy name, and what thou art?"

  "As to my name," said she, "I will not tell it thee as now. As to what Iam, I am a poor prisoner; and much have I been grieved and tormented,so that my body hath been but a thing whereby I might suffer anguish.Something else am I, but I may not tell thee what as yet."

  He looked on her long, and then arose and went his way along the verytrack of their footsteps, and he took the horse and brought him back tothe thorn, and stood by the lady and reddened, and said: "I must tellthee what I have been doing these last minutes."

  "Yea," said she, looking at him wonderingly, "hast thou not beenfetching my horse to me?"

  "So it is," said he; "but something else also. Ask me, or I cannot tellthee."

  She laughed, and said: "What else, fair sir?"

  Said he: "Ask me what, or I cannot tell thee."

  "Well, what
, then?" said she.

  He answered, stammering and blushing: "I have been looking at thy footprints, whereby thou camest up from the water, to see what new andfairer blossoms have come up in the meadow where thy feet were set e'ennow."

  She answered him nothing, and he held his peace. But in a while shesaid: "If thou wouldst have us come to thine house, thou shalt leadus thither now." And therewith she took her foot-gear from out of hergirdle, as if she would do it on, and he turned his face away, butsighed therewith. Then she reddened and put them back again, and roseup lightly, and said: "I will go afoot; and wilt thou lead the horse forme?"

  So did he, and led her by all the softest and most flowery ways, turningabout the end of a spur of the little hill that came close to the water,and going close to the lip of the river. And when they had thus turnedabout the hill there was a somewhat wider vale before them, grassyand fair, and on a knoll, not far from the water, a long frame-housethatched with reed.

  Then said Christopher: "Lady, this is now Littledale, and yonder thehouse thereof."

  She said quietly: "Lovely is the dale, and fair the house by seeming,and I would that they may be happy that dwell therein!"

  Said Christopher: "Wilt thou not speak that blessing within the house aswithout?"

  "Fain were I thereof," she said. And therewith they came into the garth,wherein the apple trees were blossoming, and Goldilind spread abroadher hands and lifted up her head for joy of the sight and the scent, andthey stayed awhile before they went on to the door, which was half open,for they feared none in that place, and looked for none whom they mightnot deal with if he came as a foe.