A swifter
messenger will go before to warn the Bishop of thy coming."
"And what of thee?" she asked.
"Of me?" repeated the Knight, as if at first the words conveyed to him
no meaning. "Oh, I shall go forth, seeking a worthy cause for which to
fight; praying God I may soon be counted worthy to fall in battle."
She pressed her clasped hands there where his face had rested.
"And if I find I cannot go back, Hugh? If I decide to stay?"
He swung round and looked at her.
"Mora, is there hope? The Bishop said there was none."
"Hugh," she made answer slowly, speaking with much earnestness, "shall
I not be given a true vision to guide me in this perplexity?"
"Our Lady grant it," he said. "If you decide to stay, one word will
bring me back. If not, Mora--this is our final parting."
He took a step toward her.
She covered her face with her hands.
In a moment his arms would be round her. She could not live through a
third of those farewell kisses. She had not yet faced out the second
question. But--vision or no vision--if he touched her now, she would
yield.
"Go!" she whispered. "Ah, for pity's sake, go! The heart of a nun
might endure even this. But I ask thy mercy for the heart of a woman!"
She heard the sob in his throat, as he knelt and lifted the hem of her
robe to his lips.
Then his step across the floor.
Then the ring of horses' hoofs upon the paving stones.
She was trembling from head to foot, yet she rose and went to the
window overlooking the courtyard.
Pages:
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433