"Come!" said Madouc. "We have watched enough of this man capering. It is time we were back on the road!"

"Not yet," said Sir Pom-Pom. "The booths yonder look in teresting; surely we can spare a moment or two."

Madouc acceded to Sir Pom-Pom's wishes, and they walked around the square, inspecting the merchandise offered for sale.

At an ironmonger's booth, Sir Pom-Pom paused to study a display of fancy cutlery. A group of damascene daggers in carved leather scabbards caught his eye and he went so far as to inquire prices. Finally, after cogitation, he settled upon one of the daggers and prepared to make the purchase. Madouc spoke in shocked wonder. "May I ask what you are proposing to do?"

"Is it not clear?" blurted Sir Pom-Pom. "I badly need a dagger, of good quality and handsome workmanship. This article exactly fits my needs."

"And how will you pay?"

Sir Pom-Pom blinked up toward the sky. "I have kept a small reserve for just such a case as this."

"Before you buy so much as a nut to crack between your teeth, we must have an accounting. Show me your reserve."

"This is an embarrassment!" stormed Sir Pom-Pom. "I am now held in contempt by the ironmonger!"

"No matter! Bring out this so-called reserve."

"Let us be reasonable! The money is safer with me! I am older than you and neither vague nor absent-minded. No cut-purse would dare approach me, especially if he saw a fine dagger at my belt. It is only prudent that I carry the money and plan the expenditures."

"Your arguments are wise," said Madouc. "They fall short only because the money is mine."

Sir Pom-Pom angrily passed over a goodly handful of coins, both silver and copper. "Take the money, then!"

Something in Sir Pom-Pom's manner aroused Madouc's suspicions. She held out her hand. "Give me the remainder."

Sir Pom-Pom grudgingly handed over further coins. "Now then!" said Madouc. "Is that all?"

Sir Pom-Pom sourly showed her a silver form and a few coppers. "I retain only my reserve. This money at least will be safe."

"And that is all?"

"That is all, and be damned to it."

"You will not need that fancy dagger. In the first place, it is far too dear."

"Not when purchased with your money."

Madouc ignored the remark. "Come! Let us be away!"

"I am hungry," grumbled Sir Pom-Pom. "We could make our lunch on one of those pork pies. Also I want to watch the clowns. Look at them now! They throw Mikelaus high in the air and let him drop. No! At the last instant the man catches him in the net! It is most comical!"

"Come, Sir Pom-Pom. You shall have your pork pie and then we will be on our way. Juno's only gait is a slow amble; we must ride long to ride far."

Sir Pom-Pom jerked peevishly at the bill of his new cap. "The day is growing late! We should bide here overnight at one of the inns. Then we can enjoy the fair at our leisure."

"The inns are surely full; we will go on."

"That is folly! The next town is ten miles distant; we will never arrive before nightfall, and once again the inns may be full."

"In that case, we shall sleep in the open, like true vagabonds."

Sir Pom-Pom had nothing more to say; the two departed Abatty Dell and proceeded on their way. As the sun dropped low in the west, they turned aside from the lane and rode a quarter-mile across a meadow to a little spinney beside a stream. Here Sir Pom-Pom struck up a fire and tethered out the horses, while Madouc toasted bacon, which they ate for their supper along with bread and cheese.

Madouc had removed her hat. Sir Pom-Pom studied her in the firelight. "Somehow you look different! Now I see! You have cut your hair short."

"How else would it fit under the cap?"

"You look more halfling now than ever."

Madouc sat hugging her knees and looking into the fire. Somewhat wistfully she said: "It is only appearance. With each passing day my human blood sings a louder song. That is always the way when one like myself leaves the shee and lives among men."

"And if you had remained at the shee: what then?"

Madouc hugged her knees even more closely. "I do not know what would have become of me. The fairies might have played tricks on me and shunned me because of my mixed blood."

"Still, mortals die, and fairies dance and play forever."

"Not so," said Madouc. "Fairies also die. Sometimes they sing sad songs by moonlight and pine away for sheer sorrow! Sometimes they drown themselves for love. Sometimes they are killed by raging bumblebees or kidnapped and murdered by trolls who grind fairy-bones into a condiment to season their sauces and ragouts."

Sir Pom-Pom yawned and stretched his legs toward the fire. "It is not the life for me, after all."

"Nor for me," said Madouc. "Already I am far too human!" In the morning the sun rose bright into a cloudless sky, and the day became warm. Halfway through the morning they came to a river, and Madouc could not resist the temptation to bathe. She left Sir Pom-Pom with the horses and scrambled down through the alders to the water's edge. Here she removed her clothes and plunged into the water, to dive and splash and enjoy the refreshing coolness. Chancing to look up the bank, she discovered Sir Pom-Pom peering down at her, his face framed by the foliage.

In a cross voice Madouc called out: "What are you gaping at, Sir Pom-Pom? Have you never seen a naked girl before?"

"Never a naked princess," said Sir Pom-Pom with a grin.

"That is sheer nonsense," said Madouc in disgust. "We are much alike, all of us. There is truly nothing noteworthy to see."

"Still, I prefer it to looking at the back end of Juno."

"Stare as you like," said Madouc. "I cannot be bothered with your foolishness."

"It is not total foolishness, as you put it," said Sir Pom-Pom. "I have a sound and practical reason for making a close inspection."

"What is that?"

"Should I return with the Holy Grail, my boon might entitle me to wed the royal princess. Therefore I thought it sensible to discover just what advantages such a choice might entail. For a fact, I see nothing which arouses any great enthusiasm."

Madouc struggled for words. At last she said: "Since you seem to be idle, I suggest that you strike up a fire and boil us a soup for our noon meal."

Sir Pom-Pom drew his face back through the foliage. Madouc stepped from the water, dressed and returned to the road. As the two sat in the shade of a great elm tree, eating their soup, they observed the approach of three persons on foot: a short plump man, a woman of similar proportions and an urchin, undersized, pasty-gray of skin, seemingly all legs and head. As they drew close, Madouc recognized the three clowns who had performed at the Abatty Dell fair.

The three approached and halted. "A very good day to you both," said the man, who had a round face, coarse black hair, a little bulb of a nose and bright protuberant black eyes.

"I echo this sentiment," declared the woman, who like the man showed a round flexible face, black hair, round black eyes and a pink stub of a nose.

"Good day to you as well," said Madouc.

The man glanced into the pot where simmered the soup. "May we sit here in the shade and take a brief respite from our trudging?"

"The shade is free," said Sir Pom-Pom. "Rest where you like."

"Your words falls kindly on the ear!" said the woman gratefully. "The way is long and I go with difficulty, and sometimes pain, by reason of my ailment."

The three settled cross-legged in the shade. "Allow me to make introductions," said the man. "I am Filemon, Master of Mirth. Here sits Dame Corcas, no less skilled in merry antics. And here, small but doughty, is our little Mikelaus. He is not altogether cheerful, and perhaps somewhat ill, since he has had no breakfast today. Am I right, poor Mikelaus, sad little tyke that you are?"