d by it, or else were by the hill that was near the river
where the crowning was to be: but I sat alone in the garden of my house
as I said; sat grieving for the loss of my brave brother, who was slain
by my side in that same fight. I sat beneath an elm tree; and as I sat
and pondered on that still, windless day, I heard suddenly a breath of
air rustle through the boughs of the elm. I looked up, and my heart
almost stopped beating, I knew not why, as I watched the path of that
breeze over the bowing lilies and the rushes by the fountain; but when I
looked to the place whence the breeze had come, I became all at once
aware of an appearance that told me why my heart stopped beating. Ah!
there they were, those two whom before I had but seen in dreams by night,
now before my waking eyes in broad daylight. One, a knight (for so he
seemed), with long hair mingled with golden threads, flowing over his
mail-coat, and a bright crestless helmet on his head, his face
sad-looking, but calm; and by his side, but not touching him, walked a
wondrously fair maiden, clad in white, her eyelids just shadowing her
blue eyes: her arms and hands seeming to float along with her as she
moved on quickly, yet very softly; great rest on them both, though sorrow
gleamed through it.

"When they came opposite to where I stood, these two stopped for a while,
being in nowise shadowy, as I have heard men say ghosts are, but clear
and distinct. They stopped close by me, as I stood motionless, unable to
pray; they turned to each other, face to face, and the maiden said,
'Love, for this our last true meeting before the end of all, we need a
witness; let this man, softened by sorrow, even as we are, go with us.'

"I never heard such music as her words were; though I used to wonder when
I was young whether the angels in heaven sung better than the choiresters
sang in our church, and though, even then the sound of the triumphant
hymn came up to me in a breath of wind, and floated round me, making
dreams, in that moment of awe and great dread, of the old long-past days
in that old church, of her who lay under the pavement of it; whose sweet
voice once, once long ago, once only to me--yet I shall see her again."
He became silent as he said this, and no man cared to break in upon his
thoughts, seeing the choking movement in his throat, the fierce clenching
of hand and foot, the stiffening of the muscles all over him; but soon,
with an upward jerk of his he