Rather be thou kind to me, and tell me of thy
days that have been, wherein I know full surely shall be nought but
good.
She smiled and blushed, but without more ado fell to telling him of
her life in the House under the Wood, and spared not even to tell him
somewhat of the wood-mother. And he said no word to her thereover,
save thanks and praises for the kindness of her story.
At last the day wore to its ending, and then the knight's grief
strode over him again, and he was moody and few-spoken; and Birdalone
was blithe with him still, and would have solaced his grief; but he
said: Let it be; as for thee, thou shalt be happy to-morrow, but
this happy day of mine is well-nigh worn, and it is as the wearing of
my life. And the dark night came, and he bade her good-night
sorrowfully, and departed to his lair in the wood. Birdalone lay in
the bower, and might not sleep a long while for her joy of the
morrow, which should bring her back to the Castle of the Quest.
But when morning was, and the sun was but just risen, Birdalone
awoke, and stood up and did on her raiment, and called her servant
the knight, and he came at once leading the two horses, and said:
Now go we to the Castle of the Quest.
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