; but thou hast not yet told me the tale of thy
captivity." Her voice sounded exceeding sweet to him, and he looked on
her face and spake as kindly as he knew how, and said: "A short tale
it is to-night at least: I came from Whitwall with a Company of
Chapmen, and it was thee I was seeking and the Well at the World's End.
All went well with me, till I came to Goldburg, and there I was
betrayed by a felon, who had promised to lead me safe to Utterness, and
tell me concerning the way unto the Well. But he sold me to the Lord
of Utterbol, who would lead me to his house; which irked me not, at
first, because I looked to find thee there. Thereafter, if for shame I
may tell the tale, his lady and wife cast her love upon me, and I was
entangled in the nets of guile: yet since I was told, and believed that
it would be ill both for thee and for me if I met thee at Utterbol, I
took occasion to flee away, I will tell thee how another while."

She had turned pale as she heard him, and now she said: "It is indeed
God's mercy that thou camest not to Utterbol nor foundest me there, for
then had both we been undone amidst the lusts of those two; or that
thou camest not there to find me fled, else hadst thou been undone. My
heart is sick to think of it, even as I sit by thy side."

Said Ralph: "Thy last word maketh me afraid and ashamed to ask thee a
thing. But tell me first, is that Lord of Utterbol as evil as men's
fear would make him? for no man is feared so much unless he is deemed
evil."

She was silent a while, and then she said: "He is so evil that it
might be deemed that he has been brought up out of hell."

Then Ralph looked sore troubled, and he said: "Dear friend, this is
the thing hard for me to say. In what wise did they use thee at
Utterbol? Did they deal with thee shamefully?" She answered him
quietly: "Nay," she said, "fear not! no shame befell me, save that I
was a thrall and not free to depart. Forsooth," she said, smiling, "I
fled away timely before the tormentors should be ready. Forsooth it is
an evil house and a mere piece of hell. But now we are out of it and
free in the wildwood, so let us forget it; for indeed it is a grief to
remember it. And now once more let us mend the fire, for thy face is
growing dim to me, and that misliketh me. Afterwards before we lie
down to sleep we will talk a little of the way, whitherward we shall
turn our faces to-morrow."

So they cast on more wood, and pine