xt the jovial old knight and the Lady Mary, whilst at the
farther end Samkin Aylward, wedged between two servant maids, kept his
neighbors in alternate laughter and terror as he told his tales of the
French Wars. Nigel had to turn his doeskin heels and show his little
golden spurs. As he spoke of what was passed Sir John clapped him on the
shoulder, while Mary took his strong right hand in hers, and the good
old priest smiling blessed them both. Nigel had drawn a little golden
ring from his pocket, and it twinkled in the torchlight.

"Did you say that you must go on your way to-morrow, father?" he asked
the priest.

"Indeed, fair son, the matter presses."

"But you may bide the morning?"

"It will suffice if I start at noon."

"Much may be done in a morning." He looked at Mary, who blushed and
smiled. "By Saint Paul! I have waited long enough."

"Good, good!" chuckled the old knight, with wheezy laughter. "Even so I
wooed your mother, Mary. Wooers were brisk in the olden time. To-morrow
is Tuesday, and Tuesday is ever a lucky day. Alas! that the good Dame
Ermyntrude is no longer with us to see it done! The old hound must run
us down, Nigel, and I hear its bay upon my own heels; but my heart will
rejoice that before the end I may call you son. Give me your hand, Mary,
and yours, Nigel. Now, take an old man's blessing, and may God keep and
guard you both, and give you your desert, for I believe on my soul that
in all this broad land there dwells no nobler man nor any woman more
fitted to be his mate!"

There let us leave them, their hearts full of gentle joy, the golden
future of hope and promise stretching out before their youthful eyes.
Alas for those green spring dreaming! How often do they fade and wither
until they fall and rot, a dreary sight, by the wayside of life! But
here, by God's blessing, it was not so, for they burgeoned and they
grew, ever fairer and more noble, until the whole wide world might
marvel at the beauty of it.

It has been told elsewhere how as the years passed Nigel's name rose
higher in honor; but still Mary's would keep pace with it, each helping
and sustaining the other upon an ever higher path. In many lands did
Nigel carve his fame, and ever as he returned spent and weary from his
work he drank fresh strength and fire and craving for honor from her
who glorified his home. At Twynham Castle they dwelled for many years,
beloved and honored by all. Then in the fullness of time they c