The Forest Lovers

Messire Prosper le Gai with his dozen men had scoured the forest

country from March on the east to Wanmeeting on the west, and from

March-Gilbert among the hills of the north to Gracedieu in Mid-

Morgraunt, without any sign of the Egyptian. But at Wanmeeting there

had been news of a golden knight, who, unattended, rode into the

market-place at sunset asking the whereabouts of Galors de Born and

his force. Having learned that they had taken the Goltres road the

knight had posted off at a gallop, hot foot. Now Prosper knew what

sort of a force Galors might have there, and guessed (from what

intelligence Isoult had added to his own) that the golden knight would

make at least two brains in it. To follow, to get his dozen men

killed, were nothing; but could he be certain Galors would be dropped

and Maulfry secured for the appointed branding before the last of them

fell? As for his own life, we know that he considered that arranged

for. He habitually left it out of the reckoning. On the whole,

however, he decided that he could not successfully attack. He must

return for reinforcements, taking with him a report which, he relied,

would secure them. Waisford had been raided, the fields about it laid

waste. There were evidences of burnings and slaughterings on all

hands. He put what heart he could into the scared burgesses before he

left, and what common-sense. But Galors had gone through like a hot

wind.

So Prosper and his men returned to High March. On the morning in which

Isoult stirred to open her loaded eyes, and began to moan a little, he

and they went by within some forty yards of her--the troopers first,

then himself riding alone behind them. He heard the moaning sound and

looked up; indeed, he saw the black ram standing, alone as he thought,

with drooped head. Prosper was full of affairs. "Some ewe but lately

yeaned," he thought as he rode on. The glaze swam again over Isoult's

eyes, and the moaning grew faint and near its death. The ram fell to

licking her cheek. In this pass she was presently found by a charcoal-

burner, who had delivered his loads, and was now journeying back with

his asses into the heart of the forest. He also heard the moaning; he

too saw the ram. Perhaps he knew more of the habits of ewes or had

them readier in mind. He may have had no affairs. The beast, at any

rate, was a ram for him, and the licked cheek that of a murdered boy

who lay with the other cheek on the sward. The blood about his eyes

and hair, the blood on the grass, was dry blood; nevertheless the man

turned him over, felt his bones, listened at his heart, and made up

his mind that he was not dead. A little wine to his lips brought him

to. The charcoal-burner looked into the wounds and washed them,

produced black bread, goat's-milk cheese, with a little more wine,

finally helped the beaten lad to his feet and to one of his asses. He

assumed it was a fight and not a failure to murder: that was safer for

him. With the same view he asked no questions. It was a pity to leave

the ram, he thought. Butcher's meat was scarce. He killed it then and

there, having plenty of asses to hand. In that category, with little

doubt, must be placed the ram in question, who, had he had a proper

abhorrence of persons who rode him face to the tail, would have kept

his skin and lived to found a family.