Also, she had come of her
own free will. The foot which had dared to stamp upon the torn
fragments of the Pope's mandate, had, with an equal courage, stepped
aside from the way of convention and had brought her within the compass
of his arms.
He could not put her from him. She was his to hold and keep. But she
was his also to shield and guard; aye, to shield not from outward
dangers only, but from anything in himself which might cause her pain
or perplexity, thus making more difficult her noble act of
self-surrender.
Words spoken by the Bishop, in the banqueting hall, came back to him
with fuller significance.
A joy arose within him, deeper far than the rapture of passion; the joy
of a faithful patience, of a strong man's mastery over the strongest
thing in himself, of a lover's comprehension, by sure instinct, of that
which no words, however clear and forcible, could have succeeded in
making plain.
His love arose, a kingly thing, crowned by her trust in him.
As he folded back the cloak, he stood with eyes uplifted to the arched
roof above his head. And the vision he saw, in the dim pearly light,
was a vision of the Madonna in his home.
The shelter of the cloak removed, the Prioress looked around with
startled eyes, full of an unspeakable shrinking; then upward to the
face of her lover, and saw it transfigured by the light of holy purpose
and of a great resolve.
But, even as she looked, he took his arm from about her, stepped a pace
forward, leaving her in the shadow, and whistled thrice the _Do-it-now_
call of the thrush.
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