Not when she took off her jewelled cross, and placed it upon our Lady's
hand; not when she stepped aside and allowed herself to be hidden by
the cloak; not even when she removed her ring and handed it to Hugh,
did she cease to be Prioress of the White Ladies of Worcester; but when
she laid herself down before the shrine of Saint Oswald, full length
upon the stretcher, at her lover's feet.
Hugh stooped, and hid the bandages beside her. He could not bring
himself to touch or to disguise that lovely head. Instead, he covered
her completely with the cloak; saying, in deep tones of infinite
tenderness:
"Our Lady be with thee. It will not be for long."
Then, shrill through the silent crypt, rang the dear call of the
blackbird.
CHAPTER XXXII
A GREAT RECOVERY AND RESTORATION
Symon, Bishop of Worcester, attended by his Chaplain, chanced to be
walking through the Precincts on his way from the Priory to the Palace,
just as the men-at-arms bearing the stretcher came through the great
door of the Cathedral.
Father Benedict, cowled, and robed completely in black, a head and
shoulders taller than the Bishop, walked behind him, a somewhat
sinister figure.
The Bishop stopped. "Precede me to the Palace, Father Benedict," he
said. "I wish to have speech with yonder Knight who, I think, comes
this way."
The Chaplain stood still, made deep obeisance, jerked his cowl more
closely over his face, and strode away.
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