Chapter IX. How I Had Word with the Lady Joan Brandon for the Third Time
　　The moon was well up when, striking out from the gloom of the woods, I reached a wall very high and strong, whereon moss and lichens grew; skirting this, I presently espied that I sought--a place where the coping was gone with sundry of the bricks, making here a gap very apt to escalade; and here, years agone, I had been wont to climb this wall to the furtherance of some boyish prank on many a night such as this. Awhile stood I staring up at this gap, then, seizing hold of massy brickwork, I drew myself up and dropped into a walled garden. Here were beds of herbs well tended and orderly, and, as I went, I breathed an air sweet with the smell of thyme and lavender and a thousand other scents, an air fraught with memories of sunny days and joyous youth, insomuch that I clenched my hands and hasted from the place. Past sombre trees, mighty of girth and branch, I hurried; past still pools, full of a moony radiance, where lilies floated; past marble fauns and dryads that peeped ghost-like from leafy solitudes; past sundial and carven bench, by clipped yew-hedges and winding walks until, screened in shadow, I paused to look upon a great and goodly house; and as I stood there viewing it over from terrace-walk to gabled roof, I heard a distant clock chime ten.
　　The great house lay very silent and dark, not a light showed save in one lower chamber. So I waited patiently, my gaze on this light, while, ever and anon, the leaves about me stirred in the soft night-wind with a sound like one that sighed mournfully.
　　Thus stayed I some while; howbeit, the light yet aglow and my patience waning, I stole forward, keeping ever in the shadows, and, ascending the terrace, came where grew ivy, very thick and gnarled, overspreading this wing of the house. Groping amid the leaves I found that I sought--a stout staple deep-driven between the bricks with above this another and yet other again, the which formed a sort of ladder whereby, as a boy, I had been wont to come and go by night or day as I listed.
　　Forthwith I began to climb by means of these staples and the ivy, until at last my fingers grasped the stone sill of a window; and now, the lattice being open, I contrived (albeit it with much ado) to clamber into the room. It was a fair-sized chamber, and the moonlight, falling athwart the floor, lit upon a great carven bed brave with tapestried hangings. Just now the silken curtains were up-drawn and upon the bed I saw a bundle of garments all ribands, laces and the like, the which, of themselves, gave me sudden pause. From these my gaze wandered to where, against the panelling, hung a goodly rapier complete with girdle and slings, its silver hilt, its guards and curling quillons bright in the moonbeams. So came I and, reaching it down, drew it from the scabbard and saw the blade very bright as it had been well cared for. And graven on the forte of the blade was the Conisby blazon and the legend:
　　ROUSE ME NOT.
　　Now as I stood watching the moonbeams play up and down the long blade, I heard the light, quick tread of feet ascending the stairs without and a voice (very rich and sweetly melodious) that brake out a-singing, and the words it sang these:
　　"A poor soul sat sighing by a green willow tree
　　With hand on his bosom, his head on his knee,
　　Sighing Willow, willow, willow!
　　O willow, willow, willow!
　　And O the green willow my garland shall be!"