"Why, yes! Brother Bonaccord. Well," said Prosper, "let us go in."
But Isoult was troubled afresh, and put her hand against his chest to
stay him; breathing very short.
"Lord," she said, "thou wilt wed me to save my soul from hell and my
body from hanging; but thou hast no love for me in thy heart, as I
know very well."
Here was a bother indeed. The girl was fair enough in her peaked elfin
way; but the fact was that he did not love her--nor anybody. He had
nothing to say therefore. She waited a little, and then, with her
voice sunk to a low murmur, she said-"We two will never come together except in love. Shall it not be so?"
Prosper bowed, saying-"It shall be so."
The girl knelt suddenly down and kissed his foot. Then she rose and
stood near him.
"Let us go in," she said.
Looking up, they saw the field of heaven strewn thick with stars, the
clouds driven off, the wind dropt. And then they went into the hovel
hand-in-hand, as they had gone out.
As soon as he saw them come in together the old man fell to chuckling
and rubbing his hands.
"Wife Mald, wife Mald, look up!" cried he; "there will be a wedding
this night. See, they are hand-fasted already."
Mald the witch rose up from the hearth at last and faced the
betrothed. She was terrible to view in her witless old age; her face
drawn into furrows and dull as lead, her bleared eyes empty of sight
or conscience, and her thin hair scattered before them. It was
despair, not sorrow, that Prosper read on such a face. Now she peered
upon the hand-locked couple, now she parted the hair from her eyes,
now slowly pointed a finger at them. Her hand shook with palsy, but
she raised it up to bless them. To Prosper she said-"Thou who art as pitiful as death, shalt have thy reward. And it shall
be more than thou knowest."
To the girl she gave no promises, but with her crutch hobbled over the
floor to where she stood. She put her hand into her daughter's bosom
and felt there; she seemed contented, for she said to her very
earnestly-"Keep thou what thou hast there till the hour of thy greatest peril.
Then it shall not fail thee to whomsoever thou shalt show it."
Then she withdrew her hand and crawled back to crouch over the ashes
of the fire; nor did she open her lips again that night, nor take any
part or lot in what followed.
"Call the priest, old man," said Prosper, "for the night is spending,
and to-morrow we should be up before the sun."