I saw that he looked anxious, and a little hope of some fresh chance of escape stirred in me, though, as they had carried me on board feet foremost, I could not see who came.
When they were close at hand their voices told me that one at least was a lady, and that she and her companions were Welsh.

I supposed that this was the princess of whom I had heard Thorgils speak just now.

I should know in a moment, for the first footsteps were on the long gangplank and pattering across it, while Evan began to smile and bow profoundly.
Then there came past my litter, stepping daintily across the planks, a most fair and noble lady, tall and black haired and graceful, wrapped against the sea air in the rare beaver skins of the Teifi River, and wonderful stuffs that the traders from the east bring to Marazion, such as we Saxons seldom see but as priceless booty, paid for with lives of men in war with West Wales in days not long gone by.
She half turned as she saw me, and it gave me a little pang, as it were, to see her draw her dress aside that it might by no means touch me, no doubt with the same fear of fever that had been in the mind of my friend at the first.

But then she stayed and looked at me and at Evan, who was yet cringing in some Welsh way of respect as she passed.

Her companions stopped on the gangplank, and they were silent.
"Why is this sick man on the ship," she said to my captor, with some little touch of haughtiness.