he
planks, a most fair and noble lady, tall and black haired and
graceful, wrapped against the sea air in the rare beaver skins of
the Teifi River, and wonderful stuffs that the traders from the
east bring to Marazion, such as we Saxons seldom see but as
priceless booty, paid for with lives of men in war with West Wales
in days not long gone by.

She half turned as she saw me, and it gave me a little pang, as it
were, to see her draw her dress aside that it might by no means
touch me, no doubt with the same fear of fever that had been in the
mind of my friend at the first. But then she stayed and looked at
me and at Evan, who was yet cringing in some Welsh way of respect
as she passed. Her companions stopped on the gangplank, and they
were silent.

"Why is this sick man on the ship," she said to my captor, with
some little touch of haughtiness. "And why is he swathed thus? What
is wrong with him?"

Evan bowed again, and at once began his tale as he had told it to
Thorgils. But he did not say that I came from near Pembroke at all.
Now he named some other place whose name began with "Llan--" as my
home.

"The good shipmaster has suffered me to take him home, Lady,
subject to your consent," he ended. "I pray you let it be so."

Now the eyes of the princess had grown soft as she heard the tale,
and when Evan ended it there was pity in her voice as she answered.

"Surely he may come, and if there is no fitting place for him he
shall even have the cabin to himself. I can be well content in
these warm things of mine on deck in this calm air, and he must
have all shelter."

"Nay, Lady, but there is the fore cabin, where he will be well
bestowed," Evan said hastily, beckoning at the same time to his
comrades that they might take me from this too unsafe place at
once.

He kept himself between me and her as much as he could all this
time, and I made no sign. It seemed to me that I could not, even in
my trouble, bring more pain to this soft-eyed princess by raising
the groan which was all that I could compass. What good would it
do? I could tell her nothing, and she could not dream of the true
reason that made me try to cry out. Maybe she would listen through
all the long hours to come to hear if the poor wretch she felt for
was yet in that dire pain that made him moan so terribly.

"Is he well bandaged?" she said, then. "It is ill if broken bones
are not closely set and splinted, and the ship will plunge and rock
pr