nd the man of the sword might without scandal be united in the
same individual. why then should he, a mere clerk, have scruples
when so fair a chance lay in his way of carrying out the spirit
as well as the letter of his father's provision. much struggle
it cost him, anxious spirit-questionings and midnight prayings,
with many a doubt and a misgiving; but the issue was that ere he
had been three days in castle twynham he had taken service under
sir nigel, and had accepted horse and harness, the same to be
paid for out of his share of the profits of the expedition.
henceforth for seven hours a day he strove in the tilt-yard to
qualify himself to be a worthy squire to so worthy a knight.
young, supple and active, with all the pent energies from years
of pure and healthy living, it was not long before he could
manage his horse and his weapon well enough to earn an approving
nod from critical men-at-arms, or to hold his own against terlake
and ford, his fellow-servitors.
but were there no other considerations which swayed him from the
cloisters towards the world? so complex is the human spirit that
it can itself scarce discern the deep springs which impel it to
action. yet to alleyne had been opened now a side of life of
which he had been as innocent as a child, but one which was of
such deep import that it could not fail to influence him in
choosing his path. a woman, in monkish precepts, had been the
embodiment and concentration of what was dangerous and evil--a
focus whence spread all that was to be dreaded and avoided. so
defiling was their presence that a true cistercian might not
raise his eyes to their face or touch their finger-tips under ban
of church and fear of deadly sin. yet here, day after day for an
hour after nones, and for an hour before vespers, he found
himself in close communion with three maidens, all young, all
fair, and all therefore doubly dangerous from the monkish
standpoint. yet he found that in their presence he was conscious
of a quick sympathy, a pleasant ease, a ready response to all
that was most gentle and best in himself, which filled his soul
with a vague and new-found joy.
and yet the lady maude loring was no easy pupil to handle. an
older and more world-wise man might have been puzzled by her
varying moods, her sudden prejudices, her quick resentment at all
constraint and authority. did a subject interest her was there
space in it for either romance or imagination, she would fly
through it with her subtle, active mind, leaving her two fellow-
students and even her teacher toiling behind her. on the other
hand, were there dull patience needed with steady toil and strain
of memory, no single fact could by any driving be fixed in her
mind. alleyne might talk to her of the stories of old gods and
heroes, of gallant deeds and lofty aims, or he might hold forth
upon moon and stars, and let his fancy wander over the hidden
secrets of the universe, and he would have a wrapt listener with
flushed cheeks and eloquent eyes, who could repeat after him the
very words which had fallen from his lips. but when it came to
almagest and astrolabe, the counting of figures and reckoning of
epicycles, away would go her thoughts to horse and hound, and a
vacant eye and listless face would warn the teacher that he had
lost his hold upon his scholar. then he had but to bring out the
old romance book from the priory, with befingered cover of
sheepskin and gold letters upon a purple ground, to entice her
wayward mind back to the paths of learning.
at times, too, when the wild fit was upon her, she would break
into pertness and rebel openly against alleyne's gentle firmness.
yet he would jog quietly on with his teachings, taking no heed to
her mutiny, until suddenly she would be conquered by his
patience, and break into self-revilings a hundred times stronger
than her fault demanded. it chanced however that, on one of
these mornings when the evil mood was upon her, agatha the young
tire-woman, thinking to please her mistress, began also to toss
her head and make tart rejoinder to the teacher's questions. in
an instant the lady maude had turned upon her two blazing eyes
and a face which was blanched with anger.
"you would dare!" said she. "you would dare!" the frightened
tire-woman tried to excuse herself. "but my fair lady," she
stammered, "what have i done? i have said no more than i heard."
"you would dare!" repeated the lady in a choking voice. "you, a
graceless baggage, a foolish lack-brain, with no thought above
the hemming of shifts. and he so kindly and hendy and long-
suffering! you would--ha, you may well flee the room!"
she had spoken with a rising voice, and a clasping and opening of
her long white fingers, so that it was no marvel that ere the
speech was over the skirts of agatha were whisking round the
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