ou fall."

"Aye, I have a search that has been made hard for me," I said
somewhat bitterly. "Truly I had not thought of falling; but it is
in my mind that little grief will be in that quarter if I do so.
Those who might have ended the search in an hour or two have kept
their charge more deeply hidden than ever from me."

"Is that the maiden's doing, think you?" she said, hesitating a
little, for the question was not an easy one for her to put, maybe.
But it was like her to make excuse for others.

"I cannot tell," said I, "but I think it likely. We were but
children, and she fears me now."

"That is to be seen," she said; "but I hope that you will find her.
What shall you do if--if she loves you not now?"

"I would let her go free, surely."

"Even if you found you loved her yet?"

"Aye. I would not hold her bound were she unwilling."

"But if it were the other way--if she would wed you willingly, and
you--well, were unwilling?"

"I would keep troth," said I; "she should not know it."

She laughed softly and answered:

"You could not hide that from her."

Then I fell silent, for I liked not this subject at any time--still
less from Uldra. And I think that she saw that I was displeased at
her questioning, for after a little while she said shyly:

"I think that I have asked you too closely about your affairs.
Forgive me--women are anxious about such matters."

"It is a trouble to me, lady," I said, hardening my heart lest I
should say too much; "but I can see no further than the coming
warfare. When that is ended there will be time for me to think more
thereof. But, as I have said, I believe that Hertha wishes that she
were not bound."

Now I had almost said "even as I wish," but I stopped in time.

"Now, whether that is so or not, she should think well of you for
your faith kept to her," Uldra said, and there was a little shake
in her voice as of tears close at hand.

Then I knew that if she kept faith with me as I with her--though
this was in a poor way enough--I must think well of her also.
Wherefore, being obliged thus to think of one another, it would be
likely enough that there would be pretence of love on both
sides--and so things would be bad. Whereupon the puzzle in my mind
grew more tangled yet, and I waxed savage, being so helpless.

And all the while those two words that came to me as I talked to
Relf grew plainer, and seemed to ring in my ears unspoken,
"Landless and luckless--landless