might come to him from so much beauty. He stayed, therefore, quietly busy with his nets, politely taking off his head-gear as the stranger drew near, and saying never a word.
Presently the knight came up and asked whether he and his horse might have shelter and care for the night.
“Fair sir,” quoth the fisherman, “as for your horse, I may give him no better stable than this shady meadow, and no better provender than the grass that groweth thereon. But for yourself I bid you welcome to my cottage, and glad shall I be to offer such supper and lodging as we have.”
Right pleased was the knight: he dismounted forthwith, and with the fisherman’s help took off both saddle and bridle from the horse, letting him loose upon the flowery green. Then turning to the fisherman: "Good fisherman,” quoth he, “I thank thee. Yet had I found thee less hospitable and kind, methinks thou wouldst scarcely have got quit of me to-day. For, as I see, there is a broad lake before us, and behind lieth the wood. God forbid that I should ride back into its mysterious depths, now that the shades of night are falling.”
“Nay, nay,” quoth the fisherman, “we will not speak too much of that!” So he led his guest into the cottage.
Within, beside the hearth, whence a scanty fire shed a dim light through a clean-swept room, was
