Boy and Girl

The woodland Mass in the yew-tree glade was served next morning by an
acolyte in cassock and cotta. The way of it was this. Alice of the
Hermitage was setting the altar in the light of a cloudy dawn, when
she heard a step and the rustling of branches behind her. Looking
quickly round, she saw a boy come out of the thicket, who stood
echoing her wonder. He was a dark-haired slim lad, in leather jerkin
and breeches, had crimson hose on his long legs, on his head a green
cap with a pheasant's tail-feather in it. The cap he presently took
off in salutation. He said his name was Roy. He had a simple direct
way of answering questions, and such untroubled eyes; he was moreover
so plainly a Christian, that when he asked Alice if he might serve the
Mass she went advocate for him to the priest. So it came about that
Isoult, having breakfasted, lay asleep in Alice's bed when a knight
came cantering into the precinct followed by a page on a cob. His
gilded armour blazed in the sun, a tall blue plume curtesied over his
casque. He was so brave a figure--tall and a superb horseman--and so
glittering from top to toe, that the old hermit, who came peering out
to see, thought him a prince.

"What may your Highness need of Saint Lucy's poor bedesman?" said the
hermit, rubbing his hands together.

"My Highness needs the whereabouts of a flitted lady," said the knight
in a high clear voice.