s he dreaming this thing,
only to awaken to the cold and awful truth!

But these warm arms about his neck, the sweet perfume of the breath that
fanned his cheek; these were no dream!

"Think thee what thou art saying, Bertrade?" he cried. "Dost forget that
I be a low-born knave, knowing not my own mother and questioning even
the identity of my father? Could a De Montfort face the world with such
a man for husband?"

"I know what I say, perfectly," she answered. "Were thou born out of
wedlock, the son of a hostler and a scullery maid, still would I love
thee, and honor thee, and cleave to thee. Where thou be, Norman of Torn,
there shall be happiness for me. Thy friends shall be my friends; thy
joys shall be my joys; thy sorrows, my sorrows; and thy enemies, even
mine own father, shall be my enemies.

"Why it is, my Norman, I know not. Only do I know that I didst often
question my own self if in truth I did really love Roger de Conde, but
thee--oh Norman, why is it that there be no shred of doubt now, that
this heart, this soul, this body be all and always for the Outlaw of
Torn?"

"I do not know," he said simply and gravely. "So wonderful a thing be
beyond my poor brain; but I think my heart knows, for in very joy, it
is sending the hot blood racing and surging through my being till I were
like to be consumed for the very heat of my happiness."

"Sh!" she whispered, suddenly, "methinks I hear footsteps. They must not
find thee here, Norman of Torn, for the King has only this night wrung
a promise from my father to take thee in the morning and hang thee. What
shall we do, Norman? Where shall we meet again?"

"We shall not be separated, Bertrade; only so long as it may take thee
to gather a few trinkets, and fetch thy riding cloak. Thou ridest north
tonight with Norman of Torn, and by the third day, Father Claude shall
make us one."

"I am glad thee wish it," she replied. "I feared that, for some reason,
thee might not think it best for me to go with thee now. Wait here, I
will be gone but a moment. If the footsteps I hear approach this door,"
and she indicated the door by which he had entered the little room,
"thou canst step through this other doorway into the adjoining
apartment, and conceal thyself there until the danger passes."

Norman of Torn made a wry face, for he had no stomach for hiding himself
away from danger.

"For my sake," she pleaded. So he promised to do as she bid, and she ran
swiftly from