The Night Land | Page 6

take my walk along the olden way, that I might chance to have but a sight of My
Lady. And, truly, I had all sight that ever man did need to put him in dread pain and
jealousy; for, truly, as I came in view of the gap, there was the Lady Mirdath walking just
without the borders of the great wood; and beside her there walked the clever-drest man
of the Court, and she suffered his arm around her, so that I knew they were lovers; for the
Lady Mirdath had no brothers nor any youthful men kin.
Yet, when Mirdath saw me upon the road, she shamed in a moment to be so caught; for
she put her lover's arm from about her, and bowed to me, a little changed of colour in the
face; and I bowed very low--being but a young man myself--; and so passed on, with my
heart very dead in me. And as I went, I saw that her lover came again to her, and had his
arm once more about her; and so, maybe, they looked after me, as I went very stiff and
desperate; but, indeed, I looked not back on them, as you may think.
And for a great month then, I went not near to the gap; for my love raged in me, and I
was hurt in my pride; and, truly, neither had a true justice been dealt to me by the Lady
Mirdath. Yet in that month, my love was a leaven in me, and made slowly a sweetness
and a tenderness and an understanding that were not in me before; and truly Love and
Pain do shape the Character of Man.
And in the end of that time, I saw a little way into Life, with an understanding heart, and
began presently to take my walks again past the gap; but truly Mirdath the Beautiful was
never to my sight; though one evening I thought she might be not a great way off; for one
of her great boar-hounds came out of the wood, and down into the road to nose against
me, very friendly, as a dog oft doth with me.
Yet, though I waited a good time after the dog had left me, I had no sight of Mirdath, and
so passed on again, with my heart heavy in me; but without bitterness, because of the
understanding that was begun to grow in my heart.
Now, there passed two weary and lonely weeks, in which I grew sick to have knowledge
of the beautiful maid. And, truly, in the end of that time, I made a sudden resolving that I
would go in through the gap, and come to the home-grounds about the Hall, and so
maybe have some sight of her.
And this resolving I had one evening; and I went out immediately, and came to the gap,
and went in through the gap, and so by a long walking to the gardens about the Hall. And,
truly, when I was come there, I saw a good light of lanthorns and torches, and a great
company of people dancing; and all drest in quaint dress; so that I knew they had a
festival for some cause. And there came suddenly a horrid dread into my heart that this
might be the marriage-dance of the Lady Mirdath; but, indeed, this was foolishness; for I
had surely heard of the marriage, if there had been any. And, truly, in a moment, I

remembered that she was come one-and-twenty years of age on that day, and to the end
of her ward-ship; and this surely to be festival in honour of the same.
And a very bright and pretty matter it was to watch, save that I was so heavy in the heart
with loneliness and longing; for the company was great and gay, and the lights plentiful
and set all about from the trees; and in leaf-made arbours about the great lawn. And a
great table spread with eating matters and silver and crystal, and great lamps of bronze
and silver went all a-down one end of the lawn; and the dance constant upon the other
part.
And surely, the Lady Mirdath to step out of the dance, very lovely drest; yet seeming, to
mine eyes, a little pale in the looming of the lights. And she to wander to a seat to rest;
and, indeed, in a moment, there to be a dozen youths of the great families of the
country-side, in attendance about her, making talk and laughter, and each eager for her
favour; and she very lovely in the midst of them, but yet, as I did think, lacking of
somewhat, and a little pale-seeming, as I have told; and her glance to