this wood, a little from the path, there is a
hidden way, and at the end thereof an ancient chapel, where oftentimes
I have bewailed my lot. Near by is a great hollow stone, concealed by
a bush, and there is the secret place where I hide my raiment, till I
would return to my own home."

On hearing this marvel the lady became sanguine of visage, because of
her exceeding fear. She dared no longer to lie at his side, and turned
over in her mind, this way and that, how best she could get her from
him. Now there was a certain knight of those parts, who, for a great
while, had sought and required this lady for her love. This knight had
spent long years in her service, but little enough had he got thereby,
not even fair words, or a promise. To him the dame wrote a letter, and
meeting, made her purpose plain.

"Fair friend," said she, "be happy. That which you have coveted so
long a time, I will grant without delay. Never again will I deny your
suit. My heart, and all I have to give, are yours, so take me now as
love and dame."

Right sweetly the knight thanked her for her grace, and pledged her
faith and fealty. When she had confirmed him by an oath, then she told
him all this business of her lord--why he went, and what he became,
and of his ravening within the wood. So she showed him of the chapel,
and of the hollow stone, and of how to spoil the Were-Wolf of his
vesture. Thus, by the kiss of his wife, was Bisclavaret betrayed.
Often enough had he ravished his prey in desolate places, but from
this journey he never returned. His kinsfolk and acquaintance came
together to ask of his tidings, when this absence was noised abroad.
Many a man, on many a day, searched the woodland, but none might find
him, nor learn where Bisclavaret was gone.

The lady was wedded to the knight who had cherished her for so long a
space. More than a year had passed since Bisclavaret disappeared. Then
it chanced that the King would hunt in that self-same wood where the
Were-Wolf lurked. When the hounds were unleashed they ran this way and
that, and swiftly came upon his scent. At the view the huntsman winded
on his horn, and the whole pack were at his heels. They followed him
from morn to eve, till he was torn and bleeding, and was all adread
lest they should pull him down. Now the King was very close to the
quarry, and when Bisclavaret looked upon his master, he ran to him for
pity and for grace. He took the stirrup within his paws, and fawned