“Had you ever seen the maiden,” said he, “you would know that it is no light task. She has me at arm’s length. If I tell her of her peril and offer my protection she will perhaps say she needs not my protection, or that, if I like not the peril, I need not face it. Or she may suspect me of serving myself while I denounce my enemy. Or she may take the case to Sir William, whom I believe to be the Captain’s friend. To speak plain, Humphrey, I am afraid to speak to her, and for that reason I have come to you.”
“Indeed,” said I; “if she would not hear you, how would she be like to heed a plain London ’prentice like me?”
“At least she would not suspect you of any motive but that of serving her.”
Little he knew! Yet I never saw him less courageous or more humble than now. He was a rude, uncouth outlaw, he said, and knew none of the arts and speeches of a fine gentleman. She laughed at his clumsy ways and despised his ignorance. She would as soon think of trusting her safety to him as to this elderly rascal Laker.
I did my best to reason with him, but in vain. At length, by sheer compulsion, he dragged me with him towards the park, reminding me of my vow, and bidding me, as I loved him, be his deputy in this matter.
By a lucky fortune, as we approached the gate, who should ride up on her palfrey but our maiden herself. She was alone and without attendant. Ludar told me afterwards that such was her wont. Once he had offered his escort, and she had replied he might come if he could promise her merrier company than her own. “Whereat,” said Ludar, “I stayed behind.”
She reined up as she saw us in the path before her, and a flush of surprise and pleasure sprang to her cheeks. How much may a man see in a moment! As she sat there, glowing with her rapid ride, and glancing from one to the other of us, I read a long history in her eyes. They were frank and fearless as ever; but as ever and anon they lit on Ludar, where he stood uneasy and blushing, they seemed to me to soften for a moment into a gentleness in which I had no share. If before I had only guessed my fate, something in her air made me sure of it now. And yet, had you seen her there, you would have said the maiden thinks no better of one of these lads than the other; nor does she think over much of either.
“Humphrey, my friend,” said she, “I am glad to see you, and in this brave company. Have you taken service under our Knight of the Rueful Countenance, or does he follow you?”
“May it please you,” said I, gallantly, “Sir Ludar and I know no service but yours.”
“I knew not that you knew one another,” said she, ignoring my speech. “Have you been hunting the English Queen’s deer again, Sir Knight?”