heart, as I saw plain; for I watched her, with an eager and lonesome
heart, and knew that it was one small man of the Court that was lover to
her, as I have told.

And I went away again then, and came not near to the gap for three great
months, because that I could not bear the pain of my loss; but in the
end of that time, my very pain to urge me to go, and to be worse than
the pain of not going; so that I found myself one evening in the gap,
peering, very eager and shaken, across the sward that lay between the
gap and the woods; for this same place to be as an holy ground to me;
for there was it that first I saw Mirdath the Beautiful, and surely lost
my heart to her in that one night.

And a great time I stayed there in the gap, waiting and watching
hopelessly. And lo! sudden there came something against me, touching my
thigh very soft; and when I looked down, it was one of the boar-hounds,
so that my heart leaped, near frightened; for truly My Lady was come
somewhere nigh, as I did think.

And, as I waited, very hushed and watchful; yet with an utter beating
heart; surely I heard a faint and low singing among the trees, so utter
sad. And lo! it was Mirdath singing a broken love song, and a-wander
there in the dark alone, save for her great dogs.

And I harked, with strange pain in me, that she did be so in pain; and I
ached to bring her ease; yet moved not, but was very still there in the
gap; save that my being was all in turmoil.

And presently, as I harked, there came a slim white figure out from
among the trees; and the figure cried out something, and came to a quick