Slip it in my hand,
And I'll write another
That she'll understand.

As he concluded, Gillian lifted up her head, and putting her hair
from her face gazed over the duckpond beyond the green wicket.

"The lady," said Joscelyn with some impatience, "who understand the
letter must outdo me in wits, for I find no understanding whatever
in your silly song. However, it seems to have brought our master's
daughter out of her lethargy, and the moment is favorable to your
tale. Therefore without further ado I beg you to begin."

"I will," said Martin, "and on my part entreat your forbearance
while I relate to you the story of The King's Barn."



THE KING'S BARN

There was once, dear maidens, a King in Sussex of whose kingdom and
possessions nothing remained but a single Barn and a change of
linen. It was no fault of his. He was a very young king when he came
into his heritage, and it was already dwindled to these proportions.
Once his fathers had owned a beautiful city on the banks of the
Adur, and all the lands to the north and the west were theirs, for a
matter of several miles indeed, including many strange things that
were on them: such as the Wapping Thorp, the Huddle Stone, the Bush
Hovel where a Wise Woman lived, and the Guess Gate; likewise those
two communities known as the Doves and the Hawking Sopers, whose