Mark was shutting the gates. Beaumont held a neglected stirrup cup,
and laughed as he drained it himself. Zachary, stout and pompous, was
mounting the steps.
Hugh, her husband--Hugh, faithful beyond belief--Hugh, her dear Knight
of the Silver Shield--had ridden off alone, to the home to which he so
greatly longed to take her; alone, with his hopeless love, his hungry
heart, and his untarnished honour.
Turning from the window she gathered up the habit of her Order and,
clasping her cross of office, mounted to her bedchamber, there to face
out in solitude the hard question of the second issue.
CHAPTER LVI
THE TRUE VISION
To her bedchamber went Mora--she who had been Prioress of the White
Ladies--bearing in her arms the full robes of her Order, and in her
hand the jewelled cross of her high office. She went, expecting to
spend hours in doubt and prayer and question before the shrine of the
Virgin. But, as she pushed open the door and entered the sunlit
chamber, on the very threshold she was met by a flash of inward
illumination. Surely every question had already been answered; the
second issue had been decided, while the first was yet wholly uncertain.
She had said she must have a divine vision. Had she not this very day
been granted a two-fold vision, both human and divine; the Divine,
stooping in unspeakable tenderness and comprehension to the human; the
Human, upborne on the mighty pinions of pure love and stainless honour
in a self-sacrifice which lifted it to the Divine?
In the lonely chapel on the mountain, she had seen her Lord.
Pages:
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434