had been.

For listen! The white nodding man was after all only a stream which
the fisherman knew very well, a stream which ran and bubbled out of
the forest and fell into the lake. As for the rustling noise, the
fisherman saw what had caused that, as a gaily clad knight rode forth
from the forest shadows toward the little cottage.

This was no spectre or spirit of the wood, this stranger who wore the
garments of a knight of high degree. He rode a white horse, which
stepped softly, so that the flowers in the meadows lifted their
delicate heads uninjured by his tread.

The fisherman raised his cap as the stranger drew near, and then
quietly went on mending his nets.

Now when the knight saw the old man's face it was welcome to him, as
indeed any human face would have been after the terrors of the forest.
There he had seen strange mocking faces peering at him whichever way
he turned, there he had been followed by strange shadowy forms from
which escape had been wellnigh impossible; here at length was a kind
and friendly mortal. He would ask him for the food and shelter of
which both he and his steed stood in need.

'Dear sir,' answered the fisherman when he had listened to the
knight's request, 'dear sir, if you will deign to enter our lonely
cottage, you will find a welcome with the food and shelter we offer.
As for your horse, can it have a better stable than this tree-shaded
meadow, or more delicious fodder than this green grass?'