e
her, who is alone among women, and of the greatest heart."

Here she ceased to speak very gravely, as she had till now done, and
breaking out into a sweet laughter, she cried--

"Nevertheless I am not wholly a false prophetess, for to-day you go with
them southward, to Tours, to change the air, as the physician counsels,
and so now we part. O false Scot!" she said, laughing again, "how have
you the ill courtesy to look so joyous? Nay, I shall change your cheer";
and with that she stooped and kissed my cheek, saying, "Go, and joy go
with you, as joy abides with me, to see my sick man look so strong again.
Come, they are waiting for us, and you know we must not tarry."

Then, giving me her arm, she led me in, and if one of us twain had a
shamefaced guise, verify it was not Charlotte Boucher.

"I yield you back your esquire, fair lady," she said merrily, making
obeisance to Elliot, who stood up, very pale, to receive us.

"He has got no ill in the bower of the enchantress," said my master;
whereat, Elliot seeming some deal confused, and blushing, Charlotte
bustled about, bringing wine and meat, and waiting upon all of us, and on
her father and mother at table. A merry dinner it was among the elder
folk, but Elliot and I were somewhat silent, and a great joy it was to
me, and a heavy weight off my heart, I do confess, when, dinner being
ended, and all courtesies done and said, my raiment was encased in
wallets, and we all went through the garden, to Loire side; and so, with
many farewells, took boat and sailed down the river, under the Bridge of
Orleans, towards Blois. But Charlotte I never saw again, nor did I ever
speak of her to Elliot, nor Elliot of her to me, from that day forth.

But within short space came tidings, how that Charlotte was wedding a
young burgess of Orleans, with whom, as I hear, she dwelt happily, and
still, for all I know, dwells in peace. As I deem, she kept her lord in
a merry life, yet in great order and obedience. So now there is no more
to tell of her, save that her picture comes back before me--a tall, brown
girl, with black hair and eyes like the hue of hazel boughs glassed in
running water, clad in white and green and red, standing smiling beneath
the red-and-white blossoms of an apple-tree, in the green garden of
Jacques Boucher.

Elliot was silent enough, and sat telling her beads, in the beginning of
our journey down the water-way, that is the smoothest and the easiest
voyag