"I am not a knight, lady; we Saxons are slow at learning the language of chivalry. If it be not presumptuous to ask it, call me Oswald; 'twill bring us so much nearer."
"Then if you have not learnt the language of chivalry, you will be the better able to call me Alice. Is it agreed?"
"With all my heart, Alice. It is a compact. Let me again assure you that you and your maid are perfectly safe in the woods or anywhere, so far as my followers and vassals are concerned. There is just one thing I would caution you about," said he, with a twinkle in his eye. "One Saxon has a very great admiration for the very spots which you are likely to choose; and I warn you, if he see a certain light in his lady's eyes, never more look for peace."
"Really this does sound like the language of our Norman gallants, after all. But come, now, if you are really heart-hungry, just a crumb of comfort will sustain you; for our Norman ballads declare very loudly that valorous knights for their lady-loves will do and dare, or suffer and wait,—well, really, without going through the list, it is wonderful what valiant knights will do for love and chivalry—in books. I used to see the said valiant knights in books, but latterly I have been face to face with the reality; and alas! I find them most devoted to wine and ale, and incontinence. So, Sir Knight,—for such I will call you once more—he who wins Alice de Montfort will have a knightlier soul than this."
"Well, I will not sound a trumpet before me, as the hypocrites do, so no more of this. Let time declare it. But did you learn how I made my escape from the castle that fateful night?"
"No. Pray tell me now? I am most curious to know it."
"Wait a little. But let me tell you I can enter the castle when I like. If you wish an interview with me at any time, you need but make some signal from the tower, and at nightfall I will meet you there whenever you wish."
"But can you come with perfect safety?"
"With absolute safety."
"Then that shall be our trysting-place, to which I will summon my Saxon ally when good news stirs—but I fear me more often when my sad heart needs cheering. But I sorely fear your coming there will be full of peril. Could I not meet you elsewhere?"