The Blue Flower [15]
fair and still, and the river ran lowly and slowly, as it were
full of gentleness, and Flumen had amended him of his evil
ways. But full of craft and guile was that false foe. For
now that the gates were firm and strong, he found a way down
through the corner of the dam, where a water-rat had burrowed,
and there the water went seeping and creeping, gnawing ever at
the hidden breach. Presently in the night came a mizzling rain,
and far among the hills a cloud brake open, and the mill-pond
flowed over and under, and the dam crumbled away, and the Mill
shook, and the whole river ran roaring through the garden.
Then was Martimor wonderly wroth, because the river had
blotted out the Maid's flowers. "And one day," she cried,
holding fast to him and trembling, "one day Flumen will have
me, when thou art gone."
"Not so," said he, "by the faith of my body that foul
fiend shall never have thee. I will bind him, I will compel
him, or die in the deed."
So he went forth, upward along the river, till he came to
a strait Place among the hills. There was a great rock full
of caves and hollows, and there the water whirled and burbled
in furious wise. "Here," thought he, "is the hold of the
knave Flumen, and if I may cut through above this rock and
make a dyke with a gate in it, to let down the water another
way when the floods come, so shall I spoil him of his craft
and put him to the worse."
Then he toiled day and night to make the dyke, and ever by
night Flumen came and strove with him, and did his power to
cast him down and strangle him. But Martimor stood fast and
drave him back.
And at last, as they wrestled and whapped together, they
fell headlong in the stream.
"Ho-o!" shouted Flumen, "now will I drown thee, and mar
the Mill and the Maid."
But Martimor gripped him by the neck and thrust his head
betwixt the leaves of the gate and shut them fast, so that his
eyes stood out like gobbets of foam, and his black tongue hung
from his mouth like a water-weed.
"Now shalt thou swear never to mar Mill nor Maid, but
meekly to serve them," cried Martimor. Then Flumen sware by
wind and wave, by storm and stream, by rain and river, by pond
and pool, by flood and fountain, by dyke and dam.
"These be changeable things," said Martimor, swear by the
Name of God."
So he sware, and even as the Name passed his teeth, the
gobbets of foam floated forth from the gate, and the water-weed
writhed away with the stream, and the river flowed fair and
softly, with a sound like singing.
Then Martimor came back to the Mill, and told how Flumen
was overcome and made to swear a pact. Thus their hearts
waxed light and jolly, and they kept that day as it were a
love-day.
VII
How Martimor Bled for a Lady and Lived for a Maid,
and how His Great Adventure Ended and Began at the Mill
Now leave we of the Mill and Martimor and the Maid, and let us
speak of a certain Lady, passing tall and fair and young.
This was the Lady Beauvivante, that was daughter to King
Pellinore. And three false knights took her by craft from her
father's court and led her away to work their will on her.
But she escaped from them as they slept by a well, and came
riding on a white palfrey, over hill and dale, as fast as ever
she could drive.
Thus she came to the Mill, and her palfrey was spent, and
there she took refuge, beseeching Martimor that he would hide
her, and defend her from those caitiff knights that must soon
follow.
"Of hiding," said he, "will I hear naught, but of
defending am I full fain. For this have I waited."
Then he made ready his horse and his armour, and took both
spear and sword, and stood forth in the bridge. Now this
bridge was strait, so that none could pass there but singly,
and that not till Martimor yielded or was beaten down.
Then came the three knights that followed the Lady, riding
fiercely down the hill. And when they came about ten
spear-lengths from the bridge, they halted, and stood still as
it had been a plump of wood. One rode in black,