"As you have seen, my messenger this night returned; and we now find
ourselves armed with the full sanction of His Holiness, providing the
Prioress, of her own free will, desires to renounce the high position
she has won in her holy calling, and to come to you."
The quiet voice ceased speaking.
The Knight rose slowly to his feet. At first he stood silent. Then he
spoke with a calm dignity which proved him worthy of the Bishop's trust.
"I greatly honour you, my lord," he said; "and were our ages and
conditions other than they are, so that we might fight for the woman we
love, I should be proud to cross swords with you."
The Bishop sat looking into the fire. A faint smile flickered at the
corners of the sensitive mouth. The fights he had fought for the woman
he loved had been of sterner quality than the mere crossing of knightly
swords.
Hugh d'Argent spoke again.
"Profoundly do I thank you, Reverend Father, for all that you have
done; and even more, for that which you did not do. It was six years
after her first sojourn at the Court that I met Mora, loved her, and
won her; and well I know that the sweet love she gave to me was a love
from which no man had brushed the bloom."
Hugh paused.
Those kindly and very luminous eyes were still bent upon the fire. Was
the Bishop finding it hard to face the fact that his life's secret had
now, by his own act, passed into the keeping of another?
Hugh moved a pace nearer.
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