ked, or looked at each other, for the mere
sight of each filled the other's heart with joy.

Oh the pity of it all! the pity of it! Such a nobly-matched pair was
never seen before nor since.

Iseult made Sir Tristram tell her of the battles he had fought, of the
countries he had seen, and of the people of this new land towards which
she was hastening; for all was strange to her, and a great heaviness
filled her heart at the thought of King Mark and his court.

That her mind might not dwell on it, she asked him of Queen Guinevere,
the fame of whose beauty had spread to all lands.

"Alas, alas for her beauty!" cried Sir Tristram. "It has been the undoing
of many good men and true, who have died for love of her. Her beauty has
been a sore curse to her, poor lady."

"Then," answered Iseult, looking up at him with serious, innocent eyes,
"right thankful I am that my face will never bring ill-fortune to any
man!" And Sir Tristram had to turn from her to hide his pain, for his
love for her was greater than ever.

On and on they sailed, full fain that their voyage might last as long as
might be, for perfect was their happiness to be together thus, and
everything was fair and peaceful. But at last one day the sun was hid by
the clouds which gathered in the sky above them, the wind howled
threateningly around the vessel, increasing in violence as the hours
dragged by, until the danger of the dainty craft was great.

Ill indeed would it have been with them but for the might of Sir
Tristram's arm, for the vessel was not one built to battle with tempests
and mighty seas. With all his strength and skill he guided her through
the troubled waters, and Iseult sat and watched him at his task,
marvelling at his power. "Ah," she thought, "had I been a man I would
have been just like to him." And, without fear of danger, so perfectly
did she trust in him, she lay and gazed at him with admiring, wistful
eyes. From time to time he came to her to encourage and reassure her,
but although she felt no fear, she did not tell him so, so dearly did she
love to hear his voice, and feel his care for her.

At last when the danger was over he came to her again, dropping beside her
almost exhausted. "Iseult, my throat is parched and burning, my tongue
cleaves to my mouth. Give me some drink," he pleaded.

Pleased to do his bidding, glad to be able to help him, Iseult rose and
ran below. But in the confusion caused by the storm nowher