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 reeve 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 horse 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 t