Dick gaping
with wonder, and not very sure if he were dreaming or awake.

"Ta'en my belt to her!" he repeated. "Ta'en my belt to her!" And the
recollection of that evening in the forest flowed back upon his mind,
and he once more saw Matcham's wincing body and beseeching eyes.

And then he was recalled to the dangers of the present. In the next room
he heard a stir, as of a person moving; then followed a sigh, which
sounded strangely near; and then the rustle of skirts and tap of feet
once more began. As he stood hearkening, he saw the arras wave along the
wall; there was the sound of a door being opened, the hangings divided,
and, lamp in hand, Joanna Sedley entered the apartment.

She was attired in costly stuffs of deep and warm colours, such as befit
the winter and the snow. Upon her head, her hair had been gathered
together and became her as a crown. And she, who had seemed so little
and so awkward in the attire of Matcham, was now tall like a young
willow, and swam across the floor as though she scorned the drudgery of
walking.

Without a start, without a tremor, she raised her lamp and looked at the
young monk.

"What make ye here, good brother?" she inquired. "Ye are doubtless
ill-directed. Whom do ye require?" And she set her lamp upon the
bracket.

"Joanna," said Dick; and then his voice failed him. "Joanna," he began
again, "ye said ye loved me; and the more fool I, but I believed it!"

"Dick!" she cried. "Dick!"

And then, to the wonder of the lad, this beautiful and tall young lady
made but one step of it, and threw her arms about his neck and gave him
a hundred kisses all in one.

"Oh, the fool fellow!" she cried. "Oh, dear Dick! Oh, if ye could see
yourself! Alack!" she added, pausing. "I have spoilt you, Dick! I have
knocked some of the paint off. But that can be mended. What cannot be
mended, Dick--or I much fear it cannot!--is my marriage with Lord
Shoreby."

"Is it decided, then?" asked the lad.

"To-morrow, before noon, Dick, in the abbey church," she answered, "John
Matcham and Joanna Sedley both shall come to a right miserable end.
There is no help in tears, or I could weep mine eyes out. I have not
spared myself to pray, but Heaven frowns on my petition. And, dear
Dick--good Dick--but that ye can get me forth of this house before the
morning, we must even kiss and say good-bye."

"Nay," said Dick, "not I; I will never say that word. 'Tis like despair;
but while there's life, Joann