hree in company; and no
one of them was young, and one was old, with white locks flowing down
from under his helm: for they were all armed in knightly fashion, but
they had naught but white gaberdines over their hauberks, with no
coat-armour or token upon them. So they came through the garth-gate
and I greeted them and asked them what they would; then the old man
knelt down on the grass before me and said: 'If I were as young as I am
old my heart would fail me in beholding thy beauty: but now I will ask
thee somewhat: far away beyond the forest we heard rumours of a woman
dwelling in the uttermost desert, who had drunk of the Well at the
World's End, and was wise beyond measure. Now we have set ourselves to
seek that woman, and if thou be she, we would ask a question of thy
wisdom.'

"I answered that I was even such as they had heard of, and bade them
ask.

"Said the old man:

"'Fifty years ago, when I was yet but a young man, there was a fair
woman who was Queen of the Land of the Tower and whom we loved sorely
because we had dwelt together with her amidst tribulation in the desert
and the wildwood: and we are not of her people, but a fellowship of
free men and champions hight the Men of the Dry Tree: and we hoped
that she would one day come back and dwell with us and be our Lady and
Queen: and indeed trouble seemed drawing anigh her, so that we might
help her and she might become our fellow again, when lo! she vanished
away from the folk and none knew where she was gone. Therefore a band
of us of the Dry Tree swore an oath together to seek her till we found
her, that we might live and die together: but of that band of one score
and one, am I the last one left that seeketh; for the rest are dead, or
sick, or departed: and indeed I was the youngest of them. But for
these two men, they are my sons whom I have bred in the knowledge of
these things and in the hope of finding tidings of our Lady and Queen,
if it were but the place where her body lieth. Thou art wise: knowest
thou the resting place of her bones?"

"When I had heard the tale of the old man I was moved to my inmost
heart, and I scarce knew what to say. But now this long while fear was
dead in me, so I thought I would tell the very sooth: but I said first:
'Sir, what I will tell, I will tell without beseeching, so I pray thee
stand up.' So did he, and I said: 'Geoffrey, what became of the white
hind after the banners had left the wildwood'? He s