On that day at noon, as she sat resting near a four-went-way, she

heard the tramp of horses, the clatter of arms. She hid herself, just

in time, in a thicket of wild rose, and waited to see what was

threatening. It proved to be a company of soldiers--she counted fifty,

but there were more--well armed with spears, whose banneroles were

black and white. They rode at a trot to the crossways; there one cried

halt. They were within ten yards of her, but happily there were no

dogs. Then she heard another horse--that of the captain, as she

guessed. She saw him come round the bend of the ride, a burly man,

black upon a black horse. There were white feathers in his helmet; on

his shield three white wicket-gates. Galors! At this moment her heart

did not fail her. It scarcely beat faster. She was able to listen at

her ease.

They debated of ways; Galors seemed in doubt, and vexed at doubting.

One of them pointed the road to High March.

"No, by the Crucified," said Galors, "that is no road for me just yet,

who once showed a shaven crown upon it. I leave High March to the

Golden Knight for the hour. He shall make my way straight, bless him

for a John Baptist. We are for Wanmeeting, my friends. Wanmeeting,

then Goltres."

Said another--"Sir, if that road lead to High March, we must go

straight forward to fetch at Wanmeeting."

So they disputed at large. Isoult made out that Galors had raised a

company of outlaws (no hard job in Morgraunt at any time, and raised

for her ravishment, if she had known it), and was bound for Goltres,

where there was a castle, and a lord of it named Spiridion. She could

find out little more. Sometimes they spoke of Hauterive town and a

castle there, sometimes of Wanmeeting and a high bailiff; but Goltres

seemed most in Galors' mind.

Finally they took the road to Wanmeeting. Isoult waited till the sound

of the horses died in the swishing of trees, and then sped forward on

her feet towards her lord. She knew she was near by, and would not

risk time or discovery by catching her pony. By four in the afternoon

she had her first view of the great castle rising stately out of the

black pines and bright green of the spring foliage, warm grey in the

full light of the sun, and solid as the rock it was of. In another

hour she was demanding of the porter at the outer bailey Messire

Prosper le Gai, in the name of his servant Roy.




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