She stopped a moment as if she could not speak for tears, then went on sadly, “Kuno hid and was not seen, but I fear that when Hanno comes through the valley, the people will tell him I am here, and then he will put me in prison and kill my children.”
The miller shook his head and spoke words of comfort.
“Have no fear, madame,” he said. “The villagers will not tell that you are here, and if Hanno comes and tries to take you, we will defend you with our lives.”
Then he went from house to house, telling the story of the Lady Rosalinde. Soon every one in the village knew it and the people swore to protect her at any cost, and the next day when Hanno came, they pretended to be so stupid that they didn’t know what he was talking about.
“She has not been here,” he said to his men. And they went away.
After that all was peaceful in the village, and the Lady Rosalinde was no longer afraid. Her children played with the charcoal burners’ children, and every evening they went to the little chapel at the edge of the forest to pray for the safe return of the husband and father from Palestine.
One lovely evening in the month of May, they went to the church as usual, and when they came out, sat down on some rocks to watch the sun sink behind the mountain. A pilgrim came by, bending low over a staff, his long white hair reaching his shoulders and his beard flowing down over his breast. He noticed the children and spoke to them, and little Edmund said, “We have just been to church to pray for our dear papa.”
The Lady Rosalinde was terribly frightened, for she thought he might be some one who would carry word to Hanno, but a moment later her fear turned to joy, for the pilgrim snatched off his beard and white hair, and a young, handsome knight stood before them. Little Blanche and Edmund screamed in delight, for they knew it was their father.
“How did you find us?” Lady Rosalinde asked.