So they sped across a waste not much beset with trees, he silent, she never wearying or slacking her pace or faltering as to the way, till they came into the thick wood again, and ever when he would have spoken she hushed him, with “Not yet!  Not yet!” Until at last when the sun had been up for some three hours, she led him through a hazel copse, like a deep hedge, into a cleared grassy place where were great grey stones lying about, as if it had been the broken doom-ring of a forgotten folk.  There she threw herself down on the grass and buried her face amidst the flowers, and was weeping and sobbing again and he bending over her, till she turned to him and drew him down to her and put her hands to his face, and laid her cheeks all wet with tears to his, and fell to kissing him long and sweetly, so that in his turn he was like to weep for the very sweetness of love.

Then at last she spake:  “This is the first word, that now I have brought thee away from death; and so sweet it is to me that I can scarce bear it.”

“Oh, sweet to me,” he said, “for I have waited for thee many days.”  And he fell to kissing and clipping her, as one who might not be satisfied.  At last she drew herself from him a little, and, turning on him a face smiling with love, she said:  “Forbear it a little, till we talk together.”  “Yea,” quoth he, “but may I hold thine hand awhile?” “No harm in that,” she said, laughing, and she gave him her hand and spake: 

“I spake it that I have brought thee from death, and thou hast asked me no word concerning what and how.”  “I will ask it now, then,” said he, “since thou wilt have it so.”  She said:  “Dost thou think that he would have let thee live?”

“Who,” said he, “since thou lettest me live?”

“He, thy foeman, the Knight of the Sun,” she said.  “Why didst thou not flee from him before?  For he did not so much desire to slay thee, but that he would have had thee depart; but if thou wert once at his house, he would thrust a sword through thee, or at the least cast thee into his prison and let thee lie there till thy youth be gone—­or so it seemed to me,” she said, faltering as she looked on him.

Said Ralph:  “How could I depart when thou wert with him?  Didst thou not see me there?  I was deeming that thou wouldst have me abide.”

She looked upon him with such tender love that he made as if he would cast himself upon her; but she refrained him, and smiled and said:  “Ah, yes, I saw thee, and thought not that thou wouldst sunder thyself from me; therefore had I care of thee.”  And she touched his cheek with her other hand; and he sighed and knit his brows somewhat, and said:  “But who is this man that he should slay me?  And why is he thy tyrant, that thou must flee from him?”

She laughed and said:  “Fair creature, he is my husband.”

Then Ralph flushed red, and his visage clouded, and he opened his mouth to speak; but she stayed him and said:  “Yet is he not so much my husband but that or ever we were bedded he must needs curse me and drive me away from his house.”  And she smiled, but her face reddened so deeply that her grey eyes looked strange and light therein.