"Who art thou that evil should droop ashamed before thee?" said a voice,
and the Black Earl turned as though a stone had struck him.

Now, when he looked east and west, no one could he see, but when he turned
him south, there among the trees he saw an old, bent woman gathering
herbs. He turned his horse and, full of rage, drove it towards her.

"Was it not thy voice that hurt my ears as I stood upon the hill?" quoth
the Black Earl, his tongue silken in his rage.

"Nay," said the ancient crone; "I heard but the linnet's song upon the
tree, and the sound of running water that is murmuring in the grove.
Listen, and thou, too, shalt hear."

"Nay," quoth she again, for the Black Earl scowled so at her that she
feared to be silent. "If I said this thing, why should it vex the ear of
so proud a knight? Yonder black rook did look into my face with an
inquisitive eye as I plucked my herbs and harmed no man, so I, angry at
the wicked one, cursed him begone. As he flew affrighted at my hand, I
turned my eyes into my own heart. The birds and I, do we not both root in
the cold earth, seeking to draw from it our desires? Black and ill-looking,
we dig all day. 'Who art thou,' quoth I to myself, 'that evil should fly
before thee?' Wicked that I am," cried the witch, "and sorrow upon me that
my words have vexed thine ears!"

Now the Black Earl did look upon her in anger, and but half believed her
tale. His trouble being heavy upon him, he bade her leave her lamenting
and answer his question.