A true knight, I thought to myself, looks not to the beauty of his lady,
but only to her distress.

"What's the matter, Brother?" I asked in the friendliest manner.

"Bolt gone," he said gruffly, "and I got to get to town before
nightfall."

"Get in," I said, "and we'll drive back. We shall see it in the road."

So he got in. I drove the mare slowly up the hill and we both leaned out
and looked. And presently there in the road the bolt lay. My farmer got
out and picked it up.

"It's all right," he said. "I was afraid it was clean busted. I'm
obliged to you for the lift."

"Hold on," I said, "get in, I'll take you back."

"Oh, I can walk."

"But I can drive you faster," I said, "and you've got to get the load
to town before nightfall."

I could not let him go without taking tribute. No matter what the story
books say, I am firmly of the opinion that no gentle knight (who was
human) ever parted with the fair lady whose misery he had relieved
without exchanging the time of day, or offering her a bun from his
dinner pail, or finding out (for instance) if she were maid or married.