She stopped and glanced at her companion. The manner in each of them
was changed; the lady was not the scornful beauty she had seemed,
while Prosper's youth was dry within him. She seemed a suppliant, he a
judge, deliberate. Such a story from such an one would have set him on
fire an hour ago; but now his words came sharply from him, whistling
like a shrill wind.
"The grave was dug overnight," was what he said.
The lady started and paled. Then she drew a deep breath, and said--"Do
you again doubt my word, sir?"
"I do not question it," he replied as before. It is a fact that he had
noticed the turned earth by the pit. There was gossamer upon it, but
that said little. Rabbits had been there also, and that said
everything.
The lady said nothing more, and in silence they went on until they
reached a fork in the path. Prosper stopped here. One path led north,
the other west.
"Here is my road," said he, pointing to the west.
"The hermitage is close by, my lord," urged the lady in a low voice.
"I pray my lord to rest him there."
"That I cannot do," says he.
She affected indignation. "Is it then in the honour of a knight to
desert a lonely lady? I am learning strange doctrine, strange
chivalry! Farewell, sir. You are young. Maybe you will learn with
years that when a lady stoops to beg it is more courtly to forestall
her."
Prosper stood leaning on his shield. "The knight's honour," he said,
"is in divers holds--in his lady's, in God's, and in the king's. These
three fly not always the same flag, but two at least of them should be
in pact."
"Ah," said she slyly, "ah, Sir Discreet, I see that you have the lady
first."
Prosper grew graver. "I said 'his lady,'" he repeated.
"And could not I, for such service as yours, be your lady, fair sir?"
she asked in a very low and troubled voice. "At least I am here--
alone--in the wood--and at your mercy."
Prosper looked straight in front of him, grave, working his mouth.
Those who knew him would have gone by the set of his chin. He may have
been thinking of Brother Bonaccord's prediction, or of the not very
veiled provocation of the lady's remarkable candour. There grew to be
a rather bleak look in his face, something blenched his blue eyes. He
turned sharply upon the woman, and his voice was like a frost.