ut 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, Joanna, there is hope. Yet will I hope. Ay, by
the mass, and triumph! Look ye, now, when ye were but a name to me, did
I not follow--did I not rouse good men--did I not stake my life upon the
quarrel? And now that I have seen you for what ye are--the fairest maid
and stateliest of England--think ye I would turn?--if the deep sea were
there, I would straight through it; if the way were full of lions, I
would scatter them like mice."

"Ay," she said, dryly, "ye make a great ado about a sky-blue robe!"

"Nay, Joan," protested Dick, "'tis not alone the robe. But, lass, ye
were disguised. Here am I disguised; and, to the proof, do I not cut a
figure of fun--a right fool's figure?"

"Ay, Dick, an' that ye do!" she answered, smiling.

"Well, then!" he returned, triumphant. "So was it with you, poor
Matcham, in the forest. In sooth, ye were a wench to laugh at. But
now!"

So they ran on, holding each other by both hands, exchanging smiles and
lovely looks, and melting minutes into seconds; and so they might have
continued all night long. But pres