But the woman, even the Friend, bestirred herself for the service of the guest, and brought water for his hands and feet, and when she had washed him, bore him the wine of Welcome and drank to him and bade him drink; and he all the while was shamefaced; for it was to him as if one of the Ladies of the Heavenly Burg were doing him service. Then she went away by a door at the lower end of the hall, and Wild-wearer came and sat down by Gold-mane, and fell a-talking with him about the ways of the Dalesmen, and their garths, and the pastures and growths thereof; and what temper the carles themselves were of; which were good men, which were ill, which was loved and which scorned; no otherwise than if he had been the goodman of some neighbouring dale; and Gold-mane told him whatso he knew, for he saw no harm therein.
After a while the outer door opened, and there came in a woman of some five-and-twenty winters, trimly and strongly built; short-skirted she was and clad as a hunter, with a bow in her hand and a quiver at her back: she unslung a pouch, which she emptied at Wild-wearer’s feet of a leash of hares and two brace of mountain grouse; of Face-of-god she took but little heed.
Said Wild-wearer: “This is good for tomorrow, not for today; the meat is well-nigh on the board.”
Then Gold-mane smiled, for he called to mind his homecoming of yesterday. But the woman said:
“The fault is not mine; she told me of the coming guest but three hours agone.”
“Ay?” said Wild-wearer, “she looked for a guest then?”
“Yea, certes,” said the woman, “else why went I forth this afternoon, as wearied as I was with yesterday?”
“Well, well,” said Wild-wearer, “get to thy due work or go play; I meddle not with meat! and for thee all jests are as bitter earnest.”
“And with thee, chief,” she said, “it is no otherwise; surely I am made on thy model.”
“Thy tongue is longer, friend,” said he; “now tarry if thou wilt, and if the supper’s service craveth thee not.”
She turned away with one keen look at Face-of-god, and departed through the door at the lower end of the hall.
By this time the hall was dusk, for there were no candles there, and the hearth-fire was but smouldering. Wild-wearer sat silent and musing now, and Face-of-god spake not, for he was deep in wild and happy dreams. At last the lower door opened and the fair woman came into the hall with a torch in either hand, after whom came the huntress, now clad in a dark blue kirtle, and an old woman yet straight and hale; and these twain bore in the victuals and the table-gear. Then the three fell to dighting the board, and when it was all ready, and Gold-mane and Wild-wearer were set down to it, and with them the fair woman and the huntress, the old woman threw good store of fresh brands on the hearth, so that the light shone into every corner; and even therewith the outer door opened, and four more men entered, whereof one was old, but big and stalwarth, the other three young: they were all clad roughly in sheep-brown weed, but had helms upon their heads and spears in their hands and great swords girt to their sides; and they seemed doughty men and ready for battle. One of the young men cast down by the door the carcass of a big-horned mountain sheep, and then they all trooped off to the out-bower by the lower door, and came back presently fairly clad and without their weapons. Wild-wearer nodded to them kindly, and they sat at table paying no more heed to Face-of-god than to cast him a nod for salutation.
Then said the old woman to them: “Well, lads, have ye been doing or sleeping?”
“Sleeping, mother,” said one of the young men, “as was but due after last night was, and tomorrow shall be.”
Said the huntress: “Hold thy peace, Wood-wise, and let thy tongue help thy teeth to deal with thy meat; for this is not the talking hour.”
“Nay, Bow-may,” said another of the swains, “since here is a new man, now is the time to talk to him.”
Said the huntress: “ ’Tis thine hands that talk best, Wood-wont; it is not they that shall bring thee to shame.”
Spake the third: “What have we to do with shame here, far away from dooms and doomers, and elders, and wardens, and guarded castles? If the new man listeth to speak, let him speak; or to fight, then let him; it shall ever be man to man.”
Then spake the old woman: “Son Wood-wicked, hold thy peace, and forget the steel that ever eggeth thee on to draw.”
Therewith she set the last matters on the board, while the three swains sat and eyed Gold-mane somewhat fiercely, now that words had stirred them, and he had sat there saying nothing, as one who was better than they, and contemned them; but now spake Wild-wearer:
“Whoso hungreth let him eat! Whoso would slumber, let him to bed. But he who would bicker, it must needs be with me. Here is a man of the Dale, who hath sought the wood in peace, and hath found us. His hand is ready and his heart is guileless: if ye fear him, run
