might go forth most days, and come to no hurt if
they were wary of the drifts; and forsooth needs must they go abroad to
take venison for their livelihood.

So the winter wore also amidst sweet speech and friendliness betwixt
the two, and they lived still as dear friends, and not as lovers.

Seldom they spoke of the Quest, for it seemed to them now a matter over
great for speech. But now they were grown so familiar each to each
that Ursula took heart to tell Ralph more of the tidings of Utterbol,
for now the shame and grief of her bondage there was but as a story
told of another, so far away seemed that time from this. But so
grievous was her tale that Ralph grew grim thereover, and he said: "By
St. Nicholas! it were a good deed, once we are past the mountains
again, to ride to Utterbol and drag that swine and wittol from his hall
and slay him, and give his folk a good day. But then there is thou, my
friend, and how shall I draw thee into deadly strife?"

"Nay," she said, "whereso thou ridest thither will I, and one fate
shall lie on us both. We will think thereof and ask the Sage of it
when we return. Who knows what shall have befallen then? Remember the
lighting of the candle of Utterbol that we saw from the Rock-sea, and
the boding thereof." So Ralph was appeased for that time.

Oft also they spake of the little lands whence they came, and on a time
amidst of such talk Ursula said: "But alas, friend, why do I speak of
all this, when now save for my brother, who loveth me but after a
fashion, to wit that I must in all wise do his bidding, lad as he is, I
have no longer kith nor kin there, save again as all the folk of one
stead are somewhat akin. I think, my dear, that I have no country, nor
any house to welcome me."

Said Ralph: "All lands, any land that thou mayst come to, shall
welcome thee, and I shall look to it that so it shall be." And in his
heart he thought of the welcome of Upmeads, and of Ursula sitting on
the dais of the hall of the High-House.

So wore the days till Candlemass, when the frost broke and the snows
began to melt, and the waters came down from the mountains, so that the
river rose over its banks and its waters covered the plain parts of the
valley, and those two could go dryshod but a little way out of their
cavern; no further than the green mound or toft which lay at the mouth
thereof: but the waters were thronged with fowl, as mallard and teal
and coots, and of these they too