so, poor lamb, she hath----"
"lady!" cried alleyne, with catching breath, "is it the lady
maude loring of whom you speak?"
"it is, in sooth."
"maude! and in a nunnery! did, then, the thought of her
father's death so move her?"
"her father!" cried the lady, smiling. "nay; maude is a good
daughter, but i think it was this young golden-haired squire of
whom i have heard who has made her turn her back upon the world."
"and i stand talking here!" cried alleyne wildly. "come, john,
come!"
rushing to his horse, he swung himself into the saddle, and was
off down the road in a rolling cloud of dust as fast as his good
steed could bear him.
great had been the rejoicing amid the romsey nuns when the lady
maude loring had craved admission into their order--for was she
not sole child and heiress of the old knight, with farms and
fiefs which she could bring to the great nunnery? long and
earnest had been the talks of the gaunt lady abbess, in which she
had conjured the young novice to turn forever from the world, and
to rest her bruised heart under the broad and peaceful shelter of
the church. and now, when all was settled, and when abbess and
lady superior had had their will, it was but fitting that some
pomp and show should mark the glad occasion. hence was it that
the good burghers of romsey were all in the streets, that gay
flags and flowers brightened the path from the nunnery to the
church, and that a long procession wound up to the old arched
door leading up the bride to these spiritual nuptials. there was
lay-sister agatha with the high gold crucifix, and the three
incense-bearers, and the two-and-twenty garbed in white, who cast
flowers upon either side of them and sang sweetly the while.
then, with four attendants, came the novice, her drooping head
wreathed with white blossoms, and, behind, the abbess and her
council of older nuns, who were already counting in their minds
whether their own bailiff could manage the farms of twynham, or
whether a reve would be needed beneath him, to draw the utmost
from these new possessions which this young novice was about to
bring them.
but alas! for plots and plans when love and youth and nature, and
above all, fortune are arrayed against them. who is this travel-
stained youth who dares to ride so madly through the lines of
staring burghers? why does he fling himself from his horae and
stare so strangely about him? see how he has rushed through the
incense-bearers, thrust aside lay-sister agatha, scattered the
two-and-twenty damosels who sang so sweetly--and he stands before
the novice with his hands out-stretched, and his face shining,
and the light of love in his gray eyes. her foot is on the very
lintel of the church, and yet he bars the way--and she, she
thinks no more of the wise words and holy rede of the lady
abbess, but she hath given a sobbing cry and hath fallen forward
with his arms around her drooping body and her wet cheek upon his
breast. a sorry sight this for the gaunt abbess, an ill lesson
too for the stainless two-and-twenty who have ever been taught
that the way of nature is the way of sin. but maude and alleyne
care little for this. a dank, cold air comes out from the black
arch before them. without, the sun shines bright and the birds
are singing amid the ivy on the drooping beeches. their choice
is made, and they turn away hand-in-hand, with their backs to the
darkness and their faces to the light.
very quiet was the wedding in the old priory church at
christchurch, where father christopher read the service, and
there were few to see save the lady loring and john, and a dozen
bowmen from the castle. the lady of twynham had drooped and
pined for weary months, so that her face was harsher and less
comely than before, yet she still hoped on, for her lord had come
through so many dangers that she could scarce believe that he
might be stricken down at last. it had been her wish to start
for spain and to search for him, but alleyne had persuaded her
to let him go in her place. there was much to look after, now
that the lands of minstead were joined to those of twynham, and
alleyne had promised her that if she would but bide with his wife
he would never come back to hampshire again until he had gained
some news, good or ill, of her lord and lover.
the yellow cog had been engaged, with goodwin hawtayne in
command, and a month after the wedding alleyne rode down to
bucklershard to see if she had come round yet from southampton.
on the way he passed the fishing village of pitt's deep, and
marked that a little creyer or brig was tacking off the land, as
though about to anchor there. on his way back, as he rode
towards the village, he saw that she had indeed anchored, and
that many boats were round her, bearing cargo to the shore.
a bow-shot from pitt'
本文链接:
http://m.picdg.com/38_38017/5748721.html