Back she leaped, finding me all wet, and not the man she looked for; and there we both stood, in a surprise that prevented either of us from speaking.
She was a pretty lass, with brown hair and bright red cheeks, and was dressed all in white, being, indeed, one of the laundresses of the castle; and this warm room, fragrant with lavender, whereinto I had stumbled, was part of the castle laundry.

A mighty fire was burning, and all the tables were covered with piles and flat baskets of white linen, sweet with scented herbs.
Back the maid stepped towards the door, keeping her eyes on mine; and, as she did not scream, I deemed that none were within hearing: wherein I was wrong, and she had another reason for holding her peace.
"Save me, gentle maid, if you may," I cried at last, falling on my knees, just where I stood: "I am a luckless man, and stand in much peril of my life." "In sooth you do," she said, "if Robert Lindsay of the Scottish Archers finds you here.

He loves not that another should take his place at a tryst." "Maiden," I said, beginning to understand why the gate was unlocked, and wherefore it went so smooth on its hinges, "I fear I have slain a man, one of the King's archers.

We wrestled together on the drawbridge, and the palisade breaking, we fell into the moat, whence I clomb by the hidden stairs." "One of the archers!" cried she, as pale as a lily, and catching at her side with her hand.

"Was he a Scot ?" "No, maid, but I am; and I pray you hide me, or show me how to escape from this castle with my life, and that speedily." "Come hither!" she said, drawing me through a door into a small, square, empty room that jutted out above the moat.