There was mockery of our foolhardy enterprise in the soft whispering sough of the water, as I heard it lapper beneath the ferry-boat that lay ready to cross to the other side.

Old Hans, the Prince's ferryman, snored in his boat.

Above in the women's chambers a light went to and fro.

I judged that it was in the bower of the Lady Ysolinde.

But not a string of my heart moved.