Custance still held the bag, but no one dared ask further.
“I will take her down the other stair to the water-gate and put her in the boat,” said Godiyeva.
“God and Saint Mary bless thee!” whispered Eleyne, and would have pressed silver into her hand, but Calote shook her head and smiled.
Custance kissed her.
At the water-gate there floated a little boat, and Godiyeva got into this with her and sent it across the moat in three strong shoves of a pole.
“Which way is the shepherd's way, where the flock is?” asked Calote.
“To southward of here,” Godiyeva answered; and then, “I repent me of that name I called thee.”
“Dear lady,” said Calote, “I 'll pray Christ Jesus and Mary his mother, that they send thee happiness.”
So she went away into the night, beneath the pale shine of a waning moon, and Godiyeva crossed the moat, and climbed the stair.
“'T was a hunting horn she had in her bag,” whispered Custance. “I felt the form of it under the flannel. Dost believe she 's that chaste fairy lady, Dian, the poets sing?”