ed an infidel,' said she. 'You must become a
Christian first.'

'Right willingly,' answered Roger, and it was agreed between them that
they should set out at once for a fair abbey, so that the rite might be
delayed no longer.

Thus they talked; but not yet were they to be united. On their way a
distressed damsel met them on the road imploring help, which both knight
and lady readily granted. But, alas! in seeking to give the aid prayed
of them they strayed unwittingly down various roads, and it was long
before fortune again brought them together. For hardly had Roger brought
to an end his adventure than he learned that his liege lord, Agramante
king of Africa, was hard pressed by Charlemagne the emperor, and needed
his vassal to fight by his side. So Roger turned his face to the west,
first bidding his squire ride back to Bradamante and tell her that, once
the war was finished, nothing further should delay his baptism.

The war went ill with Agramante, and many a time Roger was sore wounded
and like to die. Far away, in the house of her father among the
mountains, tales came now and then to Bradamante of Roger's doings in
the fight. Bitterly her soul chafed at not being by his side to help and
tend him; but, if she could not fight against him, far less could she
fight in the ranks of the infidels. Thus, weary at heart, she waited and
sat still, or wandered about the forests, hoping to meet someone who
could bring her tidings of Roger.

For long no one came through the thick dark woods, and Bradamante was
almost sick with despair, when a Gascon knight rode by.

'Are you from the war, brave sir?' asked she, springing up from the bank
where she had cast herself, and going eagerly to meet him. 'Are you from
the war, and have you news from one Roger?'

'Alas! madam,' he answered, 'but a month since he was sore wounded in
fight with one Mandricado, and has since lain in his bed, tended by the
lady Marfisa, who wears a breast-plate as easily as she does a woman's
gown. Had it not been for her skill, Roger would long have been buried,
and when he is able to bear arms again doubtless he will offer his hand
to the damsel in marriage. At least, so say all in camp. But the sun is
low and time presses. I must begone.'

He went on his way, and when he was out of sight Bradamante turned and
loosed her horse from the tree to which she had tied him and rode back
to the castle. Without a word she mounted the stairs to the tower wh