'I may not tell thee hereof as now,' said she.

Said Gold-mane: 'Yet thou mayst belike tell me wherefore was that thy brother desired to slay me yesterday, if he knew me, who I was.'

'Gold-mane,' she said, 'thou art not slain, so little story need be made of that: for the rest, belike he knew thee not at that moment.

So it falls with us, that we look to see foes rather than friends in the wild-woods. Many uncouth things are therein. Moreover, I must tell thee of my brother that whiles he is as the stalled bull late let loose, and nothing is good to him save battle and onset; and then is he blind and knows not friend from foe.' Said Face-of-G.o.d: 'Thou hast asked of me and mine; wilt thou not tell me of thee and thine?'

'Nay,' she said, 'not as now; thou must betake thee to the way.

Whither wert thou wending when thou happenedst upon us?'

He said: 'I know not; I was seeking something, but I knew not what-- meseemeth that now I have found it.'

'Art thou for the great mountains seeking gems?' she said. 'Yet go not thither to-day: for who knoweth what thou shalt meet there that shall be thy foe?'

He said: 'Nay, nay; I have nought to do but to abide here as long as I may, looking upon thee and hearkening to thy voice.'

Her eyes were upon his, but yet she did not seem to see him, and for a while she answered not; and still he wondered that mere words should come from so fair a thing; for whether she moved foot, or hand, or knee, or turned this way or that, each time she stirred it was a caress to his very heart.

He spake again: 'May I not abide here a while? What scathe may be in that?'

'It is not so,' she said; 'thou must depart, and that straightway: lo, there lieth thy spear which the Wood-mother hath brought in from the waste. Take thy gear to thee and wend thy ways. Have patience!

I will lead thee to the place where we first met and there give thee farewell.'

Therewith she arose and he also perforce, and when they came to the doorway she stepped across the threshold and then turned back and gave him her hand and so led him forth, the sun flashing back from her golden raiment. Together they went over the short grey gra.s.s of that hillside till they came to the place where he had arisen from that wrestle with her brother. There she stayed him and said:

'This is the place; here must we part.'

But his heart failed him and he faltered in his speech as he said:

'When shall I see thee again? Wilt thou slay me if I seek to thee hither once more?'

'Hearken,' she said, 'autumn is now a-dying into winter: let winter and its snows go past: nor seek to me hither; for me thou should'st not find, but thy death thou mightest well fall in with; and I would not that thou shouldest die. When winter is gone, and spring is on the land, if thou hast not forgotten us thou shalt meet us again.

Yet shalt thou go further than this Woodland Hall. In Shadowy Vale shalt thou seek to me then, and there will I talk with thee.'

'And where,' said he, 'is Shadowy Vale? for thereof have I never heard tell.'

She said: 'The token when it cometh to thee shall show thee thereof and the way thither. Art thou a babbler, Gold-mane?'

He said: 'I have won no prize for babbling hitherto.'

She said: 'If thou listest to babble concerning what hath befallen thee on the Mountain, so do, and repent it once only, that is, thy life long.'

'Why should I say any word thereof?' said he. 'Dost thou not know the sweetness of such a tale untold?'

He spake as one who is somewhat wrathful, and she answered humbly and kindly:

'Well is that. Bide thou the token that shall lead thee to Shadowy Vale. Farewell now.'

She drew her hand from his, and turned and went her ways swiftly to the house: he could not choose but gaze on her as she went glittering-bright and fair in that grey place of the mountains, till the dark doorway swallowed up her beauty. Then he turned away and took the path through the pine-woods, muttering to himself as he went:

'What thing have I done now that hitherto I had not done? What manner of man am I to-day other than the man I was yesterday?'

CHAPTER VIII. FACE-OF-G.o.d COMETH HOME AGAIN TO BURGSTEAD

Face-of-G.o.d went back through the wood by the way he had come, paying little heed to the things about him. For whatever he thought of strayed not one whit from the image of the Fair Woman of the Mountain-side.

He went through the wood swiftlier than yesterday, and made no stay for noon or aught else, nor did he linger on the road when he was come into the Dale, either to speak to any or to note what they did.

So he came to the House of the Face about dusk, and found no man within the hall either carle or queen. So he cried out on the folk, and there came in a damsel of the house, whom he greeted kindly and she him again. He bade her bring the washing-water, and she did so and washed his feet and his hands. She was a fair maid enough, as were most in the Dale, but he heeded her little; and when she was done he kissed not her cheek for her pains, as his wont was, but let her go her ways unthanked. But he went to his shut-bed and opened his chest, and drew fair raiment from it, and did off his wood-gear, and did on him a goodly scarlet kirtle fairly broidered, and a collar with gems of price therein, and other braveries. And when he was so attired he came out into the hall, and there was old Stone-face standing by the hearth, which was blazing brightly with fresh brands, so that things were clear to see.

Stone-face noted Gold-mane's gay raiment, for he was not wont to wear such attire, save on the feasts and high days when he behoved to. So the old man smiled and said:

'Welcome back from the Wood! But what is it? Hast thou been wedded there, or who hath made thee Earl and King?'

Said Face-of-G.o.d: 'Foster-father, sooth it is that I have been to the wood, but there have I seen nought of manfolk worse than myself.

Now as to my raiment, needs must I keep it from the moth. And I am weary withal, and this kirtle is light and easy to me. Moreover, I look to see the Bride here again, and I would pleasure her with the sight of gay raiment upon me.'

'Nay,' said Stone-face, 'hast thou not seen some woman in the wood arrayed like the image of a G.o.d? and hath she not bidden thee thus to worship her to-night? For I know that such wights be in the wood, and that such is their wont.'

Said Gold-mane: 'I worship nought save the G.o.ds and the Fathers.

Nor saw I in the wood any such as thou sayest.'

Therewith Stone-face shook his head; but after a while he said:

'Art thou for the wood to-morrow?'

'Nay,' said Gold-mane angrily, knitting his brows.

'The morrow of to-morrow,' said Stone-face, 'is the day when we look to see the Westland merchants: after all, wilt thou not go hence with them when they wend their ways back before the first snows fall?'

'Nay,' said he, 'I have no mind to it, fosterer; cease egging me on hereto.'

Then Stone-face shook his head again, and looked on him long, and muttered: 'To the wood wilt thou go to-morrow or next day; or some day when doomed is thine undoing.'

Therewith entered the service and torches, and presently after came the Alderman with Hall-face; and Iron-face greeted his son and said to him: 'Thou hast not hit the time to do on thy gay raiment, for the Bride will not be here to-night; she bideth still at the Feast at the Apple-tree House: or wilt thou be there, son?'

'Nay,' said Face-of-G.o.d, 'I am over-weary. And as for my raiment, it is well; it is for thine honour and the honour of the name.'

So to table they went, and Iron-face asked his son of his ways again, and whether he was quite fixed in his mind not to go down to the Plain and the Cities: 'For,' said he, 'the morrow of to-morrow shall the merchants be here, and this were great news for them if the son of the Alderman should be their faring-fellow back.'

But Face-of-G.o.d answered without any haste or heat: 'Nay, father, it may not be: fear not, thou shalt see that I have a good will to work and live in the Dale.'

And in good sooth, though he was a young man and loved mirth and the ways of his own will, he was a stalwarth workman, and few could mow a match with him in the hay-month and win it; or fell trees as certainly and swiftly, or drive as straight and clean a furrow through the stiff land of the lower Dale; and in other matters also was he deft and st.u.r.dy.