The woodland Mass in the yew-tree glade was served next morning by an
acolyte in cassock and cotta. The way of it was this. Alice of the
Hermitage was setting the altar in the light of a cloudy dawn, when
she heard a step and the rustling of branches behind her. Looking
quickly round, she saw a boy come out of the thicket, who stood
echoing her wonder. He was a dark-haired slim lad, in leather jerkin
and breeches, had crimson hose on his long legs, on his head a green
cap with a pheasant's tail-feather in it. The cap he presently took
off in salutation. He said his name was Roy. He had a simple direct
way of answering questions, and such untroubled eyes; he was moreover
so plainly a Christian, that when he asked Alice if he might serve the
Mass she went advocate for him to the priest. So it came about that
Isoult, having breakfasted, lay asleep in Alice's bed when a knight
came cantering into the precinct followed by a page on a cob. His
gilded armour blazed in the sun, a tall blue plume curtesied over his
casque. He was so brave a figure--tall and a superb horseman--and so
glittering from top to toe, that the old hermit, who came peering out
to see, thought him a prince.
"What may your Highness need of Saint Lucy's poor bedesman?" said the
hermit, rubbing his hands together.
"My Highness needs the whereabouts of a flitted lady," said the knight
in a high clear voice.
Isoult, whom the clatter had awakened, lay like a hare in her form. At
this time she feared Maulfry more than Galors.
"Great sir, we have no flitted ladies here. We are very plain folk."
So much reproof of gilded armour and its appurtenances the hermit
ventured on. But the knight was positive.
"She would have passed this way," he called out. "I know whither she
would go. This hold of yours is dead in her road. So advise, hermit."
"I will call Alice," said the hermit.
"Call the devil if he will help you," the other replied.
Isoult heard Alice go out of the cottage.
"Child," said the hermit, "this gentleman seeks a flitted lady who
should have passed by here on her way. Have you seen aught of such an
one? Your eyes are better than most."
There followed a pause, which to the trembler in the bed seemed time
for a death-warrant. Then the quiet voice of Alice told out-"I have seen no lady. Wait. I will ask."
Isoult heard her returning step. When Alice came into the room she saw
Isoult standing ready, all of a tremble.
"Oh, Alice," says she, clinging to her and speaking very fast, "I am
the girl they are hunting. I am not a boy. I have deceived you. If
they find me they will take me away."