CHAPTER XI
SANCTUARY
After Vespers that day Prosper demanded an audience of the Lady Abbess,and had it. He found her a handsome, venerable old lady, at peace withall the world and, so far as that comported with her religion, a womanof it. She had held high rank in it by right of birth; she knew what itcould do, and what not do, of good and evil. Now that she was oldenough to call its denizens her children, she folded her hands andplayed grandmother. Naturally, therefore, she knew Prosper by name; forthat, as much as his frank looks, she made him welcome. She did not askit, but he could see that she expected to be enlightened upon thesubject of Isoult--doubtful company for a knight; so having made up hismind how much he could afford to tell her, he did not waste time inpreliminaries.
"Madam," said he, after the first greetings of good company, "a knightadventuring in this forest cannot see very far before his face, and maymake error worse by what he does to solve error. If by mischance such athing should befall him, he must not faint, but persist until he hasloosed not only the knot he has tied himself, but that as well which hehas made more inexorable."
The Lady Abbess bowed very graciously, waiting for him to be done withphrases. Prosper went on--
"I found this damsel in the hands of a knave, who offered her a choiceof death or dishonour. I took her into my own, and so far have sparedher either. The rascal who had her now lies with a split gullet manyleagues from here, in such a condition that he will trouble her no moreI hope. Add to this, that I have questioned her, and find her honest,meek, and a Christian. She is, as you, will see for yourself, verygood-looking: it was near to be her undoing. I cannot tell you, norwill you ask me, first, her name (for I am not certain of it), second,the name of her enemy (for that would involve a great company whereofhe is a most unworthy member), nor third, what means I employed toinsure immunity for her body, and honour for my own as well as hers;for this would involve us all. In time I shall certainly achieve theadventure thus thrust upon me, but for the present my intention is forHigh March Castle, and the Countess of Hauterive, who was a friend ofmy father's, and is, as I know, one of yours. If you will permit it Iwill leave Isoult with you. She will serve you well and faithfully in ahundred ways; she is very handy and quick, a good girl, anxious to be abetter. If you can make a nun of her, well and good: by that means theadventure will achieve itself. I leave you to judge, however; but ifyou cannot help me there, let her stay with you for a year. After thatI will fetch her and achieve the adventure otherwise."
The Abbess smiled at the young man's judicial airs, which very illconcealed the elevation of his mind. She only said that she wouldgladly help him in the honourable task he had set himself, and doubtednot but that the girl would prove a good and useful servant to theconvent. But she added--
"It is easy to see, sir, that as a Christian your part is of the Churchmilitant. I would remind you that a nun is not made in a year."
"I mentioned a year because it was a long time, and for the sake of anexample of what I had designed," said Prosper calmly. "However, if ittakes longer, and you think well of it, I shall not complain."
"And what does the girl say?" the Abbess inquired. "For some sort ofvocation is necessary for the religious life, you must understand."
"I have not yet spoken to Isoult about it," he replied. "She will dowhat I tell her. She is a very good girl."
"I think I should speak to her myself," said the Abbess, not withoutdecision.
"So you shall," Prosper agreed; "but it will be better that I prepareher. If you will allow me I will do so at once, as I should leave earlyto-morrow."
"There goes a young man who should climb high," said the Lady Abbess,as her guest paid his respects.
Prosper went into the cloister, and found Isoult sitting with themistress of the novices and her girls who were at work there. Shelooked tired and constrained, but lit up when he came in, firing agirl's signals in her cheeks. As for her eyes, the moment Prosperappeared they never wavered from him.
He excused himself to the nun, saying that he had business with Isoult,which by leave of the Abbess he might transact in the guest chamber.One of the novices conducted him; Isoult followed meekly.
Once alone with her, Prosper sat down by the fire and told Isoult tofetch a stool and sit by him. She did as she was bid, sat at his knee,folded her hands in her lap, and waited for him to begin, lookingthoughtfully into the fire. Prosper laid a hand upon her shoulder.
"Isoult," he said, "We have got our sanctuary, as you see, and for allthat appears need neither have sought nor claimed it. We have had nopursuit worthy the name. It is evident to me that they have calculatedthe deserts of Master Galors at Malbank, and put it at our figure.Nevertheless, I am glad to be at Gracedieu, for I had decided upon itbefore ever we met and drubbed that monk. When I saved you from beinghanged I saved your body; now I shall think of your soul's health,which (the Church tells us) is far more precious. For it would seemthat a man can do without a body, but by no means without a soul. Now,I have married you, Isoult, and by that act saved your body; but I havenot as yet done any more, for though I have heard many things ofmarriage, I never heard that it was good for the soul. Moreover, formarriage to be tolerable, I suppose love is necessary,"--Isoultstarted,--"and that we certainly know nothing about it." Isoultshivered very slightly, so slightly that Prosper did not notice it. "Ihave thought a great deal about you, my child," he continued, "since Imarried you, and something also of myself, my destinies, and duties asa knight and good Christian. I have decided to go at once to HighMarch, where I shall find the Countess Isabel. She, being an old friendof my family's, will no doubt take me into her service. I shall fightfor her of course, I shall win honour and renown, very likely a fief.With that behind me I shall go to Starning and trounce my brotherMalise, baron or no baron. I shall bring him to his knees in a coldsweat, and then I shall say--`Get up, you ass, and learn not to meddleagain with a gentleman, and son of a gentleman.'
"In addition to that business I have a certain matter to inquire intoconcerning a lady whom I met in the purlieus of this forest, and a deadman she had with her. I do not like the looks of that case. Certainly Imust inquire into it, and do what pertains. There may be other thingsneeding my direction, but if there are I have forgotten them for themoment.
"You will think that in all this I have also forgotten you, child. Farfrom it. Listen now. You cannot of course go to High March. You wouldnot be happy there, nor am I in a position to make you happy. No, no;you shall stay here with the good nuns, and be useful to them, andhappy with them. You shall learn to serve God, so that in time you maybecome a nun yourself. You know my thoughts about monks, that I do notlike them. But nuns are quite otherwise. Our Lord Jesus was served bytwo women, of whom Mary was assuredly a nun, and Martha a religiouswoman equally, probably of the begging order--a sister of Saint Clare,or of the order of Mount Carmel. The point is, I believe, still indoubt. So you see that you have excellent examples before you topersevere. When I have put my affairs in train at High March I willcome and see you; and as you are my wife, if any trouble should comeabout you, any sickness, or threatening from without, or any privategrief, send me word, and I will never fail you. Moreover, have nodoubts of my fidelity: I am a gentleman, Isoult, as you know. Andindeed such pranks are not to my taste."
He stopped talking, but not patting the girl's shoulder. It was almostmore than she could endure. At first her blank and sheer dismay hadbeen almost comical; she had looked at him as if he was mad, or talkinggibberish. The even flow of his reasoning went on, and with it a highsatisfaction in all his plans patent even to her cloudy intellect;gradually thus the truth dawned upon her, and as he continued she lostthe sense of his spoken thoughts in the mad cross-tides of her ownunuttered. Now her crying instinct was for rescue at all costs, at anyhazard. Prayers, entreaties, cravings for reprieve thronged unvoicedand not to be voiced through every fibre of her body. Could he notspare her? Could he not? If she could turn suddenly upon him, clasp hisknees, worm
herself between his arms, put her face--wet, shaking,tremulous, but ah, Lord! how full of love--near to his! If she could!She could not; shame froze her, choked not speech only but act; she wasdumb through and through--a dumb animal.
"Well, Isoult, what do you say?" he asked in his cheerful voice. Hecould hardly hear her answer, it came so low.
"I will do thy pleasure, lord," she murmured.
He stooped and kissed her forehead, not noticing how she shook.
"Good child," he said, "good child! I am more than satisfied with you,and hope that I may have proved as pleasant a traveller as I have foundyou to be. My salute must be for good-night and farewell, Isoult, forto-morrow morning I shall be gone before you have turned your side inbed. That is where you should be now, my dear. Your head is very hot--asign that you are tired. Forget not what I have said to you inanything; forget not to trust me. They will show you your bed.Good-bye, Isoult."
She muttered something inaudible with her lips, and went out withoutlooking at him again. Every bone in her body ached so cruelly that shecould hardly drag herself along. She could neither think nor cry out;what strength she had went towards carrying this new load, which, whileit paralyzed, for the present numbed her as well. The mistress of thenovices was shocked to see her white drawn face, heavily-blacked eyes,and to hear a dead voice come dully from such pretty lips.
"My dear heart," said the good woman, "you are tired to death. Comewith me to the still-room; I will give you a cordial." The liquor atleast sent some blood to her face and lips, with whose help she wasable to find her bed. For that night she had for bedfellow a fat nun,who snored and moaned in her sleep, was fretful at the least stir, andeffectually prevented her companion from snoring, in turn, if she hadbeen afflicted with that disease. Isoult stirred little enough: beingworn out with grief entirely new to her, to say nothing of her fatigueof travel, she lay like a log and (what she had never done before)dreamed horribly. Very early, before light, she was awake and face toface with her anguish again. She lay in a waking stupor, fatallysensible, but incapable of responsible action. She had to hearProsper's voice in the courtyard sharply inquiring of the way, hiswords to his horse, all his clinking preparations; she heard hishigh-sung "Heaven be with you; pray for me," and the diminishing chorusof Saracen's hoofs on the road. She trembled so much during thistorment that she feared to shake the bed. Very weakness at last tookpity on her; she swooned asleep again, this time dreamless. The fat nungetting up for Prime, also took enough pity upon her to let her he. Soit was that Prosper left Gracedieu.
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