The Forest Lovers

"I will disarm you"--had she not done it, indeed!--"and dress your

hurts. Then you shall rest and I look at you at last."

"I am not much hurt. We could well go on."

"Nay, you must let me do as I will now. I must disarm you. 'Tis my

right."

She did it, kneeling at his knees or standing before him. For once he

was that delight of a woman in love, her plaything, her toy--her baby,

in a word. She girdled him with her arms at need; her fingers busy at

neck or cheek-pieces unlaced the helm.

"Now kneel."

He obeyed her, and she grew tenderly deft over his wounds. She washed

them clean, bound them up with strips torn from her skirt. She pushed

back his hair from eyes and brows, and washed him clean of blood and

sweat and rage. Her petticoat was her towel; she would have used her

hair, but that she dared not lose command of herself and him. She

wished for once to draw him, not to be drawn.

She knelt down on the moss, touching her lap meaningly as she did so.

"Rest here," said the gesture; "rest here, my dear heart," said the

smile that flew with it.

He knelt beside her--all went well up to this. The moon was low, the

night wearing; but the pure light came flowing through a rent in the

trees, and she caught his look upon her. She tried, but she could not

meet it. Then it befell her that she would not meet it if she could.

Prosper took something from his breast.

"Look," he said, as he held it up.

She watched it quivering in the moonbeams; her eyes brimmed; she grew

blush-red, divinely ashamed.

"Hold your hand out," said Prosper. She had risen to her knees; they

were kneeling face to face, very near.

Isoult's hands were crossed at her neck. Prosper remembered the

gesture. Now she held out her left hand and let him crown it. He held

on--alas! he was growing master every minute.

"Isoult."

"Yes."

"Oh, my dear love, Isoult! Now I shall wed thee, Isoult the Much-

Desired."

She began to shake. But she put her hands up till they rested on his

shoulders. She laughed in a low thrilled tone.

"I am La Desirée now, and no longer La Desirous. For what I desired

was another's desire." Also she said--"Kiss my mouth, and I shall

believe that thou speakest the truth of the heart."

He held her with his hands, looking long and steadily; nor did her

eyes refuse him now. Love was awake and crying between the pair. He

drew her nearer, kissed her on the eyes and on the mouth; and she grew

red and loved him dearly.