ain, safe and sound to his
own house. She seated herself on the roots of a tree, and with sighs
and tears lamented her piteous case.

"Father of Heaven," said the girl, "Who was and ever shall be, be
pitiful to my prayer. Since it is not to Thy will that any man should
be wretched, be merciful to a most unhappy maid. Fair Sire, give back
the days that are gone, when my friend was at my side, and grant that
once again I may be with him. Lord God of Hosts, when shall I be
healed? None knows the bitterness of my sorrow, for none may taste
thereof, save such as set their heart on what they may not have. These
only, Lord, know the wormwood and the gall."

Thus prayed the maiden, seated on the roots of that ancient tree, her
feet upon the tender grass. At the time of her orisons much was she
sought and inquired after in the palace, but none might find where she
had hidden. The damsel herself was given over altogether to her love
and her sorrow, and had no thought for anything, save for prayers and
tears. The night wore through, and dawn already laced the sky, when
she fell on a little slumber, in the tree where she was sheltered. She
woke with a start, but returned to her sleep more deeply than before.
She had not slept long, when herseemed she was ravished from the
tree--but I cannot make this plain for I know no wizardry--to that
Ford of the Thorn, where her friend and lover had repaired. The knight
looked upon the sleeping maiden, and marvelled at so fair a sight. All
adread was the lady when she came from her slumber, for she knew not
where she lay, and wondered greatly. She covered her head by reason of
her exceeding fear, but the knight consoled her courteously.

"Diva," said he, "there is no reason for terror. If you are an earthly
woman, speaking with a mortal tongue, tell me your story. Tell me in
what guise and manner you came so suddenly to this secret place."

The maiden began to be of more courage, till she remembered that she
was no longer in the orchard of the castle. She inquired of the knight
to what haunt she had come.

"Lady," he made answer, "you are laid at the Ford of the Thorn, where
adventures chance to the seeker, sometimes greatly against the mind,
and sometimes altogether according to the heart."

"Ah, dear God," cried the lady, "now shall I be made whole. Sir, look
a little closer upon me, for I have been your friend. Thanks be to
God, who so soon has heard my prayer."

This was the beginni