On the morning after the storm at Goltres, July 18, Galors sat in the
hall of his stronghold habited as he had ridden in but a few hours
before. In came a red-haired peasant, asking to be made his man.
"Why so, fellow?" asked Galors.
"Lording," said Falve, "because my mother hath done me a wrong."
"Why, thou dog?" cried Galors. "Would'st thou cut thy mother's throat
under my flag?"
"Lording," Falve answered, "I would not cut my mother's throat under
the Pope's flag. But I know thee to be a great lord, master of all
these walks of Morgraunt. If I were made free of thy company I could
ask thee a mercy; and if I asked thee a mercy it would be that thou
should'st order my mother to give me back my wife."
"How, thy wife, rogue?" said Galors, who was weary of the man.
"Lording, she was to have been my wife this day. But she lay last
night with my mother, and by the show of a certain token, which
unknown to me she wore about her, prevailed upon my mother to let her
go. So now she has escaped into the forest, and I am beggared of her
without thy help."
By this Galors was awake. He leaned forward in his chair, put chin to
hand, and asked quietly--"How was she called, this wife of thine, my
knave?"
"Lording," replied the poor eager rogue, "she was a boy at first,
called Roy; then she revealed herself a maiden."
"I asked her maiden name, red fool."
"Her name, my lording, was Isoult la Desirous."
"Ah! At last!"
He got up from his chair, saying shortly, "Take me this instant to thy
mother."
"But lord--"
"Silence, lout, or I swing you sky-high. To your mother without a
word."
Poor Falve, in a cold sweat, obeyed. They found the old lady making
breathless preparations for departure.
"Mother," began Falve, "my Lord Galors--"
"Peace, fool!" broke in Galors. "Dame," he said civilly, "I must thank
you for the great charge you have been at with a certain lady much in
both our hearts. No doubt she has spoken to you of Messire Prosper le
Gai. Madam, I am he."
"As God is great," Falve cried, "I could have sworn the lord of this
town was Messire Galors de Born."
"And so he was but yesterday," said Galors. "But now I hold it for the
Countess Isabel."
The old woman was convinced at this name. She caught Galors by the
arm.
"And will you take back the lamb to the dam?" she bleated.
"That is all I ask," replied Galors, speaking the truth.
"You may catch her, Messire--you may catch her. Ah, if I could only
have known of you yester-e'en! She's had but seven hours' start of
you. Take the path for Thornyhold Brush, and you'll find her. Jesu
Christ! when I saw the bleeding bird again I could have died, had
there not been better work before me."