in a war-ship sumptuously furnished and manned by many persons of
dignity and wealth, in order they might suitably escort the Princess
Jehane into Brittany, where she was to marry the Duke of that province.
There were now rejoicings throughout Navarre, in which the Princess
took but a nominal part and young Antoine Riczi none at all.

This Antoine Riczi came to Jehane that August twilight in the hedged
garden. "King's daughter!" he sadly greeted her. "Duchess of
Brittany! Countess of Rougemont! Lady of Nantes and of Guerrand! of
Rais and of Toufon and Guerche!"

"Nay," she answered, "Jehane, whose only title is the Constant Lover."
And in the green twilight, lit as yet by one low-hanging star alone,
their lips met, as aforetime.

Presently the girl spoke. Her soft mouth was lax and tremulous, and
her gray eyes were more brilliant than the star yonder. The boy's arms
were about her, so that neither could be quite unhappy; and besides, a
sorrow too noble for any bitterness had mastered them, and a vast
desire whose aim they could not word, or even apprehend save cloudily.

"Friend," said Jehane, "I have no choice. I must wed with this de
Montfort. I think I shall die presently. I have prayed God that I may
die before they bring me to the dotard's bed."

Young Riczi held her now in an embrace more brutal. "Mine! mine!" he
snarled toward the obscuring heavens.

"Yet it may be I must live. Friend, the man is very old. Is it wicked
to think of that? For I cannot but think of his great age."

Then Riczi answered: "My desires--may God forgive me!--have clutched
like starving persons at that sorry sustenance. Friend! ah, fair,
sweet friend! the man is human and must die, but love, we read, is
immortal. I am fain to die, Jehane. But, oh, Jehane! dare you to bid
me live?"

"Friend, as you love me, I entreat you live. Friend, I crave of the
Eternal Father that if I falter in my love for you I may be denied even
the bleak night of ease which Judas knows." The girl did not weep;
dry-eyed she winged a perfectly sincere prayer toward incorruptible
saints. He was to remember the fact, and through long years.

For even as Riczi left her, yonder behind the yew-hedge a shrill
joculatrix sang, in rehearsal for Jehane's bridal feast.

Sang the joculatrix:

"_When the morning broke before us
Came the wayward Three astraying,
Chattering a trivial chorus--
Hoidens that at handball playing
(Whe