The Forest Lovers

Unfortunately Prosper saw no need for playing Galors just then. But

the seneschal always pleased him.

"Master Porges," he said in his suavest tones, "the gentleman you name

is indisposed to wait very long--he must not indeed be delayed--and is

wholly incapable of travel unattended. He must therefore ride where I

ride. As for the lady upon whom you bestow so decorous a name, I

cannot answer. The lady whom I escort will please herself. Step behind

us, Master Porges, I entreat of you. You would not ask so much of Sir

Galors de Born if you knew him as well as I do."

"Now, who is this? What am I then, Messire?" the seneschal gasped.

"You are the most worshipful Master Porges, if I am right, by the

grace of God Seneschal of High March, and so forth."

"Ah! Good! And you, sir?"

"I am not Galors de Born," replied Prosper modestly, "though he is not

far removed from me."

"You bear his coat, Messire."

"Ah, Saint Mary! I bear more than that of his."

"Messire, I have it in command----"

"And I have it to command. Behind, sir," said Prosper shortly and

finally. Then he rode forward with Isoult and met the minstrels.

"My little singers," cried he, "sing your blithest now, and take us

happily to the Castle. Come-"'Love is Lord of the land,

Master of maid and man;

Goeth in green with a ruddy face,

Heartening whom he can,'" etc., etc.

The thing was a country catch which he had himself caught up from the

High March maids. It went to a free breathless measure, ran easily

into a gallop, must be jigged to. The fluttering cavalcade came

skipping home, all save the boy who carried Sancta Isolda, and he at

last tucked her under his arm and tripped with the rest. So it befel

that the man of policy came in the rear; so also it befel that, when

at the gates Prosper demanded his audience, Master Porges went in

chastened with the message, and came back still more chapfallen to

report--that her ladyship, his mistress, would receive the messenger

of Sir Galors de Born at once, with the lady in his escort. Thus

finally Prosper, with Isoult behind him, stood in the great hall, and

saw the Countess Isabel trembling on the dais.

She came down the way left her by the assembled household, pale and

misty with tears to meet them. Prosper was softened at once, but

before he could speak she was holding out her hands to him as a

suppliant, striving to steady her voice.