III.

"Poor hire repays the rustic's pain;

More paltry still the sportsman's gain;

Vainest of all, the student's theme

End in gome metaphysic dream.

Yet each is up, and each has toil'd

Since first the peep of dawn has smiled;

And each is eagerer in his aim

Than he who barters life for fame.

Up, up, and arm thee, son of terror!

Be thy bright shield the morning's mirror."

When the song was finished, the Constable heard some talking

without, and presently Philip Guarine entered the pavilion to tell

that a person, come hither as he said by the Constable's

appointment, waited permission to speak with him.

"By my appointment?" said De Lacy; "admit him immediately."

The messenger of the preceding evening entered the tent, holding

in one hand his small cap and feather, in the other the rote on

which he had been just playing. His attire was fantastic,

consisting of more than one inner dress of various colours, all of

the brightest and richest dyes, and disposed so as to contrast

with each other--the upper garment was a very short Norman cloak,

in bright green. An embroidered girdle sustained, in lieu of

offensive weapons, an inkhorn with its appurtenances on the one

side, on the other a knife for the purposes of the table. His hair

was cut in imitation of the clerical tonsure, which was designed

to intimate that he had arrived to a certain rank in his

profession; for the Joyous Science, as the profession of

minstrelsy was termed, had its various ranks, like the degrees in

the church and in chivalry. The features and the manners of the

man seemed to be at variance with his profession and habit; for,

as the latter was gay and fantastic, the former had a cast of

gravity, and almost of sternness, which, unless when kindled by

the enthusiasm of his poetical and musical exertions, seemed

rather to indicate deep reflection, than the thoughtless vivacity

of observation which characterized most of his brethren. His

countenance, though not handsome, had therefore something in it

striking and impressive, even from its very contrast with the

particoloured hues and fluttering shape of his vestments; and the

Constable felt something inclined to patronize him, as he said,

"Good-morrow, friend, and I thank thee for thy morning greeting;

it was well sung and well meant, for when we call forth any one to

bethink him how time passes, we do him the credit of supposing

that he can employ to advantage that flitting treasure."

The man, who had listened in silence, seemed to pause and make an

effort ere he replied, "My intentions, at least, were good, when I

ventured to disturb my lord thus early; and I am glad to learn

that my boldness hath not been evil received at his hand."

"True," said the Constable, "you had a boon to ask of me. Be

speedy, and say thy request--my leisure is short."

"It is for permission to follow you to the Holy Land, my lord,"

said the man.

"Thou hast asked what I can hardly grant, my friend," answered De

Lacy--"Thou art a minstrel, art thou not?"

"An unworthy graduate of the Gay Science, my lord," said the

musician; "yet let me say for myself, that I will not yield to the

king of minstrels, Geoffrey Rudel, though the King of England hath

given him four manors for one song. I would be willing to contend

with him in romance, lay, or fable, were the judge to be King

Henry himself."

"You have your own good word, doubtless," said De Lacy;

"nevertheless, Sir Minstrel, thou goest not with me. The Crusade

has been already too much encumbered by men of thy idle

profession; and if thou dost add to the number, it shall not be

under my protection. I am too old to be charmed by thy art, charm

thou never so wisely."

"He that is young enough to seek for, and to win, the love of

beauty," said the minstrel, but in a submissive tone, as if

fearing his freedom might give offence, "should not term himself

too old to feel the charms of minstrelsy."

The Constable smiled, not insensible to the flattery which

assigned to him the character of a younger gallant. "Thou art a

jester," he said, "I warrant me, in addition to thy other

qualities."

"No," replied the minstrel, "it is a branch of our profession

which I have for some time renounced--my fortunes have put me out

of tune for jesting."

"Nay, comrade," said the Constable, "if thou hast been hardly

dealt within the world, and canst comply with the rules of a

family so strictly ordered as mine, it is possible we may agree

together better than I thought. What is thy name and country? thy

speech, methinks, sounds somewhat foreign."

"I am an Armorican, my lord, from the merry shores of Morbihan;

and hence my tongue hath some touch of my country speech. My name

is Renault Vidal."

"Such being the case, Renault," said the Constable, "thou shalt

follow me, and I will give orders to the master of my household to

have thee attired something according to thy function, but in more

orderly guise than thou now appearest in. Dost thou understand the

use of a weapon?"

"Indifferently, my lord," said the Armorican; at the same time

taking a sword from the wall, he drew, and made a pass with it so

close to the Constable's body as he sat on the couch, that he

started up, crying, "Villain, forbear!"

"La you! noble sir," replied Vidal, lowering with all submission

the point of his weapon--"I have already given you a proof of

sleight which has alarmed even your experience--I have an hundred

other besides."

"It may be so," said De Lacy, somewhat ashamed at having shown

himself moved by the sudden and lively action of the juggler; "but

I love not jesting with edge-tools, and have too much to do with

sword and sword-blows in earnest, to toy with them; so I pray you

let us have no more of this, but call me my squire and my

chamberlain, for I am about to array me and go to mass."

The religious duties of the morning performed, it was the

Constable's intention to visit the Lady Abbess, and communicate,

with the necessary precautions and qualifications, the altered

relations in which he was placed towards her niece, by the

resolution he had been compelled to adopt, of departing for the

Crusade before accomplishing his marriage, in the terms of the

precontract already entered into. He was conscious that it would

be difficult to reconcile the good lady to this change of

measures, and he delayed some time ere he could think of the best

mode of communicating and softening the unpleasant intelligence.

An interval was also spent in a visit to his nephew, whose state

of convalescence continued to be as favourable, as if in truth it

had been a miraculous consequence of the Constable's having

complied with the advice of the Archbishop.

From the lodging of Damian, the Constable proceeded to the convent

of the Benedictine Abbess. But she had been already made

acquainted with the circumstances which he came to communicate, by

a still earlier visit from the Archbishop Baldwin himself. The

Primate had undertaken the office of mediator on this occasion,

conscious that his success of the evening before must have placed

the Constable in a delicate situation with the relations of his

betrothed bride, and willing, by his countenance and authority, to

reconcile the disputes which might ensue. Perhaps he had better

have left Hugo de Lacy to plead his own cause; for the Abbess,

though she listened to the communication with all the respect due

to the highest dignitary of the English Church, drew consequences

from the Constable's change of resolution which the Primate had

not expected. She ventured to oppose no obstacle to De Lacy's

accomplishment of his vows, but strongly argued that the contract

with her niece should be entirely set aside, and each, party left

at liberty to form a new choice.

It was in vain that the Archbishop endeavoured to dazzle the

Abbess with the future honours to be won by the Constable in the

Holy Land; the splendour of which would attach not to his lady

alone, but to all in the remotest degree allied to or connected

with her. All his eloquence was to no purpose, though upon so

favourite a topic he exerted it to the utmost. The Abbess, it is

true, remained silent for a moment after his arguments had been

exhausted, but it was only to consider how she should intimate in

a suitable and reverent manner, that children, the usual

attendants of a happy union, and the existence of which she looked

to for the continuation of the house of her father and brother,

could not be hoped for with any probability, unless the

precontract was followed by marriage, and the residence of the

married parties in the same country. She therefore insisted, that

the Constable having altered his intentions in this most important

particular, the _fiancailles_ should be entirely abrogated

and set aside; and she demanded of the Primate, as an act of

justice, that, as he had interfered to prevent the bridegroom's

execution of his original purpose, he should now assist with his

influence wholly to dissolve an engagement which had been thus

materially innovated upon.

The Primate, who was sensible he had himself occasioned De Lacy's

breach of contract, felt himself bound in honour and reputation to

prevent consequences so disagreeable to his friend, as the

dissolution of an engagement in which his interest and

inclinations were alike concerned. He reproved the Lady Abbess for

the carnal and secular views which she, a dignitary of the church,

entertained upon the subject of matrimony, and concerning the

interest of her house. He even upbraided her with selfishly

preferring the continuation of the line of Berenger to the

recovery of the Holy Sepulchre, and denounced to her that Heaven

would be avenged of the shortsighted and merely human policy,

which postponed the interests of Christendom to those of an

individual family.

After this severe homily, the Prelate took his departure, leaving

the Abbess highly incensed, though she prudently forbore returning

any irreverent answer to his paternal admonition.

In this humour the venerable lady was found by the Constable

himself, when with some embarrassment, he proceeded to explain to

her the necessity of his present departure for Palestine.

She received the communication with sullen dignity; her ample

black robe and scapular seeming, as it were, to swell out in yet

prouder folds as she listened to the reasons and the emergencies

which compelled the Constable of Chester to defer the marriage

which he avowed was the dearest wish of his heart, until after his

return from the Crusade, for which he was about to set forth.

"Methinks," replied the Abbess, with much coldness, "if this

communication is meant for earnest,--and it were no fit business--

I myself no fit person,--for jesting with--methinks the

Constable's resolution should have been proclaimed to us yesterday

before the _fiancailles_ had united his troth with that of

Eveline Berenger, under expectations very different from those

which he now announces."

"On the word of a knight and a gentleman, reverend lady," said the

Constable, "I had not then the slightest thought that I should be

called upon to take a step no less distressing to me, than, as I

see with pain, it is unpleasing to you."

"I can scarcely conceive," replied the Abbess, "the cogent

reasons, which, existing as they must have done yesterday, have

nevertheless delayed their operation until to-day."

"I own," said De Lacy, reluctantly, "that I entertained too ready

hopes of obtaining a remission from my vow, which my Lord of

Canterbury hath, in his zeal for Heaven's service, deemed it

necessary to refuse me."

"At least, then," said the Abbess, veiling her resentment under

the appearance of extreme coldness, "your lordship will do us the

justice to place us in the same situation in which we stood

yesterday morning; and, by joining with my niece and her friends

in desiring the abrogation of a marriage contract, entered into

with very different views from those which you now entertain, put

a young person in that state of liberty of which she is at present

deprived by her contract with you."

"Ah, madam!" said the Constable, "what do you ask of me? and in a

tone how cold and indifferent do you demand me to resign hopes,

the dearest which my bosom ever entertained since the life-blood

warmed it!"

"I am unacquainted with language belonging to such feelings, my

lord," replied the Abbess; "but methinks the prospects which could

be so easily adjourned for years, might, by a little, and a very

little, farther self-control, be altogether abandoned."

Hugo de Lacy paced the room in agitation, nor did he answer until

after a considerable pause. "If your niece, madam, shares the

sentiments which you have expressed, I could not, indeed, with

justice to her, or perhaps to myself, desire to retain that

interest in her, which our solemn espousals have given me. But I

must know my doom from her own lips; and if it is as severe as

that which your expressions lead me to fear, I will go to

Palestine the better soldier of Heaven, that I shall have little

left on earth that can interest me."

The Abbess, without farther answer, called on her Praecentrix, and

desired her to command her niece's attendance immediately. The

Praecentrix bowed reverently, and withdrew.

"May I presume to inquire," said De Lacy, "whether the Lady

Eveline hath been possessed of the circumstances which have

occasioned this unhappy alteration in my purpose?"

"I have communicated the whole to her from point to point," said

the Abbess, "even as it was explained to me this morning by my

Lord of Canterbury, (for with him I have already spoken upon the

subject,) and confirmed but now by your lordship's own mouth."

"I am little obliged to the Archbishop," said the Constable, "for

having forestalled my excuses in the quarter where it was most

important for me that they should be accurately stated, and

favourably received."

"That," said the Abbess, "is but an item of the account betwixt

you and the Prelate,--it concerns not us."

"Dare I venture to hope," continued De Lacy, without taking

offence at the dryness of the Abbess's manner, "that Lady Eveline

has heard this most unhappy change of circumstances without

emotion,--I would say, without displeasure?"

"She is the daughter of a Berenger, my lord," answered the Abbess,

"and it is our custom to punish a breach of faith or to contemn

it--never to grieve over it. What my niece may do in this case, I

know not. I am a woman of religion, sequestered from the world,

and would advise peace and Christian forgiveness, with a proper

sense of contempt for the unworthy treatment which she has

received. She has followers and vassals, and friends, doubtless,

and advisers, who may not, in blinded zeal for worldly honour,

recommend to her to sit down slightly with this injury, but desire

she should rather appeal to the King, or to the arms of her

father's followers, unless her liberty is restored to her by the

surrender of the contract into which she has been enticed.--But

she comes, to answer for herself."

Eveline entered at the moment, leaning on Rose's arm. She had laid

aside mourning since the ceremony of the _fiancailles_, and

was dressed in a kirtle of white, with an upper robe of pale blue.

Her head was covered with a veil of white gauze, so thin, as to

float about her like the misty cloud usually painted around the

countenance of a seraph. But the face of Eveline, though in beauty

not unworthy one of that angelic order, was at present far from

resembling that of a seraph in tranquillity of expression. Her

limbs trembled, her cheeks were pale, the tinge of red around the

eyelids expressed recent tears; yet amidst these natural signs of

distress and uncertainty, there was an air of profound

resignation--a resolution to discharge her duty in every emergence

reigning in the solemn expression of her eye and eyebrow, and

showing her prepared to govern the agitation which she could not

entirely subdue. And so well were these opposing qualities of

timidity and resolution mingled on her cheek, that Eveline, in the

utmost pride of her beauty, never looked more fascinating than at

that instant; and Hugo de Lacy, hitherto rather an unimpassioned

lover, stood in her presence with feelings as if all the

exaggerations of romance were realized, and his mistress were a

being of a higher sphere, from whose doom he was to receive

happiness or misery, life or death.

It was under the influence of such a feeling, that the warrior

dropped on one knee before Eveline, took the hand which she rather

resigned than gave to him, pressed it to his lips fervently, and,

ere he parted with it, moistened it with one of the few tears

which he was ever known to shed. But, although surprised, and

carried out of his character by a sudden impulse, he regained his

composure on observing that the Abbess regarded his humiliation,

if it can be so termed, with an air of triumph; and he entered on

his defence before Eveline with a manly earnestness, not devoid of

fervour, nor free from agitation, yet made in a tone of firmness

and pride, which seemed assumed to meet and control that of the

offended Abbess.

"Lady," he said, addressing Eveline, "you have heard from the

venerable Abbess in what unhappy position I have been placed since

yesterday by the rigour of the Archbishop--perhaps I should rather

say by his just though severe interpretation of my engagement in

the Crusade. I cannot doubt that all this has been stated with

accurate truth by the venerable lady; but as I must no longer call

her my friend, let me fear whether she has done me justice in her

commentary upon the unhappy necessity which must presently compel

me to leave my country, and with my country to forego--at best to

postpone--the fairest hopes which man ever entertained. The

venerable lady hath upbraided me, that being myself the cause that

the execution of yesterday's contract is postponed, I would fain

keep it suspended over your head for an indefinite term of years.

No one resigns willingly such rights as yesterday gave me; and,

let me speak a boastful word, sooner than yield them up to man of

woman born, I would hold a fair field against all comers, with

grinded sword and sharp spear, from sunrise to sunset, for three

days' space. But what I would retain at the price of a thousand

lives, I am willing to renounce if it would cost you a single

sigh. If, therefore, you think you cannot remain happy as the

betrothed of De Lacy, you may command my assistance to have the

contract annulled, and make some more fortunate man happy."

He would have gone on, but felt the danger of being overpowered

again by those feelings of tenderness so new to his steady

nature, that he blushed to give way to them.

Eveline remained silent. The Abbess took the word. "Kinswoman,"

she said, "you hear that the generosity--or the justice--of the

Constable of Chester, proposes, in consequence of his departure

upon a distant and perilous expedition, to cancel a contract

entered into upon the specific and precise understanding that he

was to remain in England for its fulfilment. You cannot, methinks,

hesitate to accept of the freedom which he offers you, with thanks

for his bounty. For my part, I will reserve mine own, until I

shall see that your joint application is sufficient to win to your

purpose his Grace of Canterbury, who may again interfere with the

actions of his friend the Lord Constable, over whom he has already

exerted so much influence--for the weal, doubtless, of his

spiritual concerns."

"If it is meant by your words, venerable lady," said the

Constable, "that I have any purpose of sheltering myself behind

the Prelate's authority, to avoid doing that which I proclaim my

readiness, though not my willingness, to do, I can only say, that

you are the first who has doubted the faith of Hugo de Lacy."--And

while the proud Baron thus addressed a female and a recluse, he

could not prevent his eye from sparkling, and his cheek from

flushing.

"My gracious and venerable kinswoman," said Eveline, summoning

together her resolution, "and you, my kind lord, be not offended

if I pray you not to increase by groundless suspicions and hasty

resentments your difficulties and mine. My lord, the obligations

which I lie under to you are such as I can never discharge, since

they comprehend fortune, life, and honour. Know that, in my

anguish of mind, when besieged by the Welsh in my castle of the

Garde Doloureuse, I vowed to the Virgin, that (my honour safe) I

would place myself at the disposal of him whom our Lady should

employ as her instrument to relieve me from yonder hour of agony.

In giving me a deliverer, she gave me a master; nor could I desire

a more noble one than Hugo de Lacy."

"God forbid, lady," said the Constable, speaking eagerly, as if he

was afraid his resolution should fail ere he could get the

renunciation uttered, "that I should, by such a tie, to which you

subjected yourself in the extremity of your distress, bind you to

any resolution in my favour which can put force on your own

inclinations!"

The Abbess herself could not help expressing her applause of this

sentiment, declaring it was spoken like a Norman gentleman; but at

the same time, her eyes, turned towards her niece, seemed to

exhort her to beware how she declined to profit by the candour of

De Lacy.

But Eveline proceeded, with her eyes fixed on the ground, and a

slight colour overspreading her face, to state her own sentiments,

without listening to the suggestions of any one. "I will own,

noble sir," she said, "that when your valour had rescued me from

approaching destruction, I could have wished--honouring and

respecting you, as I had done your late friend, my excellent

father--that you could have accepted a daughter's service from me.

I do not pretend entirely to have surmounted these sentiments,

although I have combated them, as being unworthy of me, and

ungrateful to you. But, from the moment you were pleased to honour

me by a claim on this poor hand, I have studiously examined my

sentiments towards you, and taught myself so far to make them

coincide with my duty, that I may call myself assured that De Lacy

would not find in Eveline Berenger an indifferent, far less an

unworthy bride. In this, sir, you may boldly confide, whether the

union you have sought for takes place instantly, or is delayed

till a longer season. Still farther, I must acknowledge that the

postponement of these nuptials will be more agreeable to me than

their immediate accomplishment. I am at present very young, and

totally inexperienced. Two or three years will, I trust, render me

yet more worthy the regard of a man of honour."

At this declaration in his favour, however cold and qualified, De

Lacy had as much difficulty to restrain his transports as formerly

to moderate his agitation.

"Angel of bounty and of kindness!" he said, kneeling once more,

and again possessing himself of her hand, "perhaps I ought in

honour to resign voluntarily those hopes which you decline to

ravish from me forcibly. But who could be capable of such

unrelenting magnanimity?--Let me hope that my devoted attachment--

that which you shall hear of me when at a distance--that which you

shall know of me when near you--may give to your sentiments a more

tender warmth than they now express; and, in the meanwhile, blame

me not that I accept your plighted faith anew, under the

conditions which you attach to it. I am conscious my wooing has

been too late in life to expect the animated returns proper to

youthful passion--Blame me not if I remain satisfied with those

calmer sentiments which make life happy, though they cannot make

possession rapturous. Your hand remains In my grasp, but it

acknowledges not my pressure--Can it be that it refuses to ratify

what your lips have said?"

"Never, noble De Lacy!" said Eveline, with more animation than she

had yet expressed; and it appeared that the tone was at length

sufficiently encouraging, since her lover was emboldened to take

the lips themselves for guarantee.

It was with an air of pride, mingled with respect, that, after

having received this pledge of fidelity, he turned to conciliate

and to appease the offended Abbess. "I trust, venerable mother,"

he said, "that you will resume your former kind thoughts of me,

which I am aware were only interrupted by your tender anxiety for

the interest of her who should be dearest to us both. Let me hope

that I may leave this fair flower under protection of the honoured

lady who is her nest in blood, happy and secure as she must ever

be, while listening to your counsels, and residing within these

sacred walls."

But the Abbess was too deeply displeased to be propitiated by a

compliment, which perhaps it had been better policy to have

delayed till a calmer season. "My lord," she said, "and you, fair

kinswoman, you ought needs to be aware how little my counsels--not

frequently given where they are unwillingly listened to--can be of

avail to those embarked in worldly affairs. I am a woman dedicated

to religion, to solitude, and seclusion--to the service, in brief,

of Our Lady and Saint Benedict. I have been already censured by my

superior because I have, for love of you, fair niece, mixed more

deeply in secular affairs than became the head of a convent of

recluses--I will merit no farther blame on such an account; nor

can you expect it of me. My brother's daughter, unfettered by

worldly ties, had been the welcome sharer of my poor solicitude.

But this house is too mean for the residence of the vowed bride of

a mighty baron; nor do I, in my lowliness and inexperience, feel

fitness to exercise over such an one that authority, which must

belong to me over every one whom this roof protects. The grave

tenor of our devotions, and the serener contemplation to which the

females of this house are devoted," continued the Abbess, with

increasing heat and vehemence, "shall not, for the sake of my

worldly connections, be disturbed by the intrusion of one whose

thoughts must needs be on the worldly toys of love and marriage."

"I do indeed believe, reverend mother," said the Constable, in his

turn giving way to displeasure, "that a richly-dowered maiden,

unwedded, and unlikely to wed, were a fitter and more welcome

inmate to the convent, than one who cannot be separated from the

world, and whose wealth is not likely to increase the House's

revenues."

The Constable did the Abbess great injury in this hasty

insinuation, and it only went to confirm her purpose of rejecting

all charge of her niece during his absence. She was in truth as

disinterested as haughty; and her only reason for anger against

her niece was, that her advice had not been adopted without

hesitation, although the matter regarded Eveline's happiness

exclusively.

The ill-timed reflection of the Constable confirmed her in the

resolution which she had already, and hastily adopted. "May Heaven

forgive you, Sir Knight," she replied, "your injurious thoughts of

His servants! It is indeed time, for your soul's sake, that you do

penance in the Holy Land, having such rash judgments to repent

of.--For you, my niece, you cannot want that hospitality, which,

without verifying, or seeming to verify, unjust suspicions, I

cannot now grant to you, while you have, in your kinswoman of

Baldringham, a secular relation, whose nearness of blood

approaches mine, and who may open her gates to you without

incurring the unworthy censure, that she means to enrich herself

at your cost."

The Constable saw the deadly paleness which, came over Eveline's

cheek at this proposal, and, without knowing the cause of her

repugnance, he hastened to relieve her from the apprehensions

which she seemed evidently to entertain. "No, reverend mother," he

said, "since _you_ so harshly reject the care of your

kinswoman, she shall not be a burden to any of her other

relatives. While Hugo de Lacy hath six gallant castles, and many a

manor besides, to maintain fire upon their hearths, his betrothed

bride shall burden no one with her society, who may regard it as

otherwise than a great honour; and methinks I were much poorer

than Heaven hath made me, could I not furnish friends and

followers sufficient to serve, obey, and protect her."

"No, my lord," said Eveline, recovering from the dejection into

which she had been thrown by the unkindness of her relative;

"since some unhappy destiny separates me from the protection of my

father's sister, to whom I could so securely have resigned myself,

I will neither apply for shelter to any more distant relation, nor

accept of that which you, my lord, so generously offer; since my

doing so might excite harsh, and, I am sure, undeserved

reproaches, against her by whom I was driven to choose a less

advisable dwelling-place. I have made my resolution. I have, it is

true, only one friend left, but she is a powerful one, and is able

to protect me against the particular evil fate which seems to

follow me, as well as against the ordinary evils of human life."

"The Queen, I suppose?" said the Abbess, interrupting her

impatiently.

"The Queen of Heaven! venerable kinswoman," answered Eveline; "our

Lady of the Garde Doloureuse, ever gracious to our house, and so

lately my especial guardian and protectress. Methinks, since the

vowed votaress of the Virgin rejects me, it is to her holy

patroness whom I ought to apply for succour."

The venerable dame, taken somewhat at unawares by this answer,

pronounced the interjection "Umph!" in a tone better befitting a

Lollard or an Iconoclast, than a Catholic Abbess, and a daughter

of the House of Berenger. Truth is, the Lady Abbess's hereditary

devotion to the Lady of the Garde Doloureuse was much decayed

since she had known the full merits of another gifted image, the

property of her own convent.

Recollecting herself, however, she remained silent, while the

Constable alleged the vicinity of the Welsh, as what might

possibly again render the abode of his betrothed bride at the

Garde Doloureuse as perilous as she had on a former occasion found

it. To this Eveline replied, by reminding him of the great

strength of her native fortress--the various sieges which it had

withstood--and the important circumstance, that, upon the late

occasion, it was only endangered, because, in compliance with a

point of honour, her father Raymond had sallied out with the

garrison, and fought at disadvantage a battle under the walls. She

farther suggested, that it was easy for the Constable to name,

from among his own vassals or hers, a seneschal of such approved

prudence and valour, as might ensure the safety of the place, and

of its lady.

Ere De Lacy could reply to her arguments the Abbess rose, and,

pleading her total inability to give counsel in secular affairs,

and the rules of her order, which called her, as she said, with a

heightened colour and raised voice, "to the simple and peaceful

discharge of her conventual duties," she left the betrothed

parties in the locutory, or parlour, without any company, save

Rose, who prudently remained at some distance.

The issue of their private conference seemed agreeable to both;

and when Eveline told Rose that they were to return presently to

the Garde Doloureuse, under a sufficient escort, and were to

remain there during the period of the Crusade, it was in a tone of

heartfelt satisfaction, which her follower had not heard her make

use of for many days. She spoke also highly in praise of the kind

acquiescence of the Constable in her wishes, and of his whole

conduct, with a warmth of gratitude approaching to a more tender

feeling.

"And yet, my dearest lady," said Rose, "if you will speak

unfeignedly, you must, I am convinced, allow that you look upon

this interval of years, interposed betwixt your contract and your

marriage, rather as a respite than in any other light."

"I confess it," said Eveline, "nor have I concealed from, my

future lord that such are my feelings, ungracious as they may

seem. But it is my youth, Rose, my extreme youth, which makes me

fear the duties of De Lacy's wife. Then those evil auguries hang

strangely about me. Devoted to evil by one kinswoman, expelled

almost from the roof of another, I seem to myself, at present, a

creature who must carry distress with her, pass where she will.

This evil hour, and, what is more, the apprehensions of it, will

give way to time. When I shall have attained the age of twenty,

Rose, I shall be a full-grown woman, with all the soul of a

Berenger strong within me, to overcome those doubts and tremors

which agitate the girl of seventeen."

"Ah! my sweet mistress," answered Rose, "may God and our Lady of

the Garde Doloureuse guide all for the best!--But I would that this

contract had not taken place, or, having taken place, that it

could have been fulfilled by your immediate union."