tame. What best merits attention at present is the general
situation, and the strange complication of feeling that arose from it.
History itself, though a far more daring story-teller than romance,
presents few things so strange(1) as the footing on which Gerard and
Margaret now lived for many years. United by present affection, past
familiarity, and a marriage irregular but legal; separated by Holy
Church and by their own consciences, which sided unreservedly with
Holy Church; separated by the Church, but united by a living pledge of
affection, lawful in every sense at its date.

And living but a few miles from one another, and she calling his mother
"mother," For some years she always took her boy to Gouda on Sunday,
returning home at dark, Go when she would, it was always fete at Gouda
manse, and she was received like a little queen. Catherine in these days
was nearly always with her, and Eli very often, Tergou had so little to
tempt them compared with Rotterdam; and at last they left it altogether,
and set up in the capital.

And thus the years glided; so barren now of striking incidents, so void
of great hopes, and free from great fears, and so like one another,
that without the help of dates I could scarcely indicate the progress of
time.

However, early next year, 1471, the Duchess of Burgundy, with the open
dissent, but secret connivance of the Duke, raised forces to enable her
dethroned brother, Edward the Fourth of England, to invade that kingdom;
our old friend Denys thus enlisted, and passing through Rotterdam to the
ships, heard on his way that Gerard was a priest, and Margaret alone. On
this he told Margaret that marriage was not a habit of his, but that as
his comrade had put it out of his own power to keep troth, he felt bound
to offer to keep it for him; "for a comrade's honour is dear to us as
our own," said he.

She stared, then smiled, "I choose rather to be still thy she-comrade,"
said she; "closer acquainted, we might not agree so well," And in her
character of she-comrade she equipped him with a new sword of Antwerp
make, and a double handful of silver. "I give thee no gold," said she,
"for 'tis thrown away as quick as silver, and harder to win back. Heaven
send thee safe out of all thy perils; there be famous fair women yonder
to beguile thee, with their faces, as well as men to hash thee with
their axes."

He was hurried on board at La Vere, and never saw Gerard at that time.

In 1473 Syb