He turned to Don
Alderon, who was surprised to see the vehemence with which his
guest suddenly spoke after those hours of silence, and Rodriguez
told him the story of his love and the story of both his castles,
that which had vanished from the bank of the Ebro and that which
was promised him by the King of Shadow Valley. And often Don
Alderon interrupted.
"Oh, Rodriguez," he said, "you are welcome to our ancient,
unfortunate house": and later he said, "I have met no man that had
a prettier way with the sword."
But Rodriguez held on to the end, telling all he had to tell; and
especially that he was landless and penniless but for that one
promise; and as for the sword, he said, he was but as a child
playing before the sword of Don Alderon. And this Don Alderon said
was in no wise so, though there were a few cunning passes that he
had learned, hoping that the day might come for him to do God a
service thereby by slaying some of the Moors: and heartily he gave
his consent and felicitation. But this Rodriguez would not have:
"Come with me," he said, "to the forest to the place where I met
this man, and if we find him not there we will go to the house in
which his bowmen feast and there have news of him, and he shall
show us the castle of his promise and, if it be such a castle as
you approve, then your consent shall be given, but if not ..."
"Gladly indeed," said Don Alderon. "We will start tomorrow.
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