Even as I spoke I could see that she did it.
“Lean towards me and drop the reins, mistress”; and as I spoke I switched my poor nag and leaned from the saddle, took my mistress about the waist, and pulled her clear of the mare. It took but a moment more to set her gently on the ground and start after the mare, since I knew, if aught befell her, our day of pleasuring would have but an ill ending. Freed from the flapping of the skirt, she gradually slackened her pace, and erelong I was leading her back to where my Lady stood with the tall marsh grasses waving about her feet.
“Help me to mount, Jehan,” saith she, whilst I was turning about in my mind how to urge her to let me ride the mare while she took the steadier horse.
“Pray, mistress,” I began; but she cut me short with,—
“Have a care that my cousin knows not of this mishap, since it fairly shames me to think how the mare bested me. But I was not affrighted.”
At this she gave a side look at me, but I knew her too well to show that I had noted her white face. I did not answer, but pondered if it was not seemlier to guard my mistress even against herself. When she noted me standing and switching of the grass, she crieth out,—
“Sure, Jehan, it would be an unkind part to tell that I was like to be run with on my fête day, since all has come out well. Promise now that thou wilt hold thy peace.”
So promise I did, and none guessed how near we had come to grief, though my Lord, when we drew up with them, wondered why the mare looked so hard ridden!
’Twas now well on to noon, and we rested by the side of a clear stream, and ate of squirrels fresh roasted, and of little fishes drawn from the brook but half an hour before, and of the honey of the wild bee spread on cakes of white flour, and of spices and of wine.
“Hast had a happy day, little one?” saith my Lord, as we sat ’neath the trees; and my mistress, turning, laid her cheek on his hand and said,—