occasion to flee from her: this is all the tale. Yet once and again
it hath been in my mind that it was thy sister who stole me from them
that loved me.

Hah, thrall! said the lady, thou art bold; thou art over-bold, thou
naked wretch, to bandy words with me. What heed I thy tale now thou
art under my hand? Her voice was cold rather than fierce, yet was
there the poison of malice therein. But Birdalone spake: If I be
bold, lady, it is because I see that I have come into the House of
Death. The dying may well be bold.

The House of Death! cried the stupid lady; and wilt thou call my
noble house the House of Death? Now art thou no longer bold,
stripped thrall, but impudent.

Scorn rose into Birdalone's heart at this word, but she refrained
her, and spake: I meant that I have stirred the wrath in thee, and
that thou wilt slay me therefor; and that it availeth not to crave
mercy of thee.

Laughed the lady: Thou art a fool, thrall, said she; if a sparrow
fled hither from my sister, I should not wring its neck, but keep it
for her. So shall I do with thee. I shall not slay thee, and so
destroy my sister's chattel; nor shall I spoil thee, and spoil her
possession. I shall send thee back unto her, the stolen thrall in
the stolen boat, when I have learned thee a lesson here. Forsooth it
was for that cause meseemeth that she let thee slip through her
fingers, for she is wise enough to have stayed thee from this holiday
had she willed it. But she is tender-hearted, and kind, and soft,
and might well deem that if thy chastisement were done to her hand