The Forest Lovers

She sat as close to him as she dared on the trunk of the beech, while

he taught her to say after him, "Pater noster qui es in

coelis", and "Ave Maria gratia plena." In this way they

spent a full hour or more, going over and over the Latin words till

she was as perfect as he. In the stress of the task, which interested

Prosper vastly, their hands met more than once; finally Prosper's

settled down over hers and held it. In time he caught the other.

Isoult's heart beat wildly; she had never been so happy. When she had

all the words pat they knelt down and prayed together, with the best

results.

"Now, child," said Prosper, "you may add what you choose of your own

accord; and be sure that our Lady will hear you. It is a great merit

to be sure of this. The greater the Christian the surer he is. I also

will make my petition. You have no patron?"

"No, lord, I have never heard of such an one."

"I recommend you to Saint Isidore. His name is the nearest to yours

that I can remember. For the rest, he is very strong. Ask, then, what

you will now, my child, and doubt nothing."

Isoult bent her head and shut her eyes for the great essay. What could

she say? What did she want? She was kneeling by Prosper's side, his

hand held hers a happy prisoner.

"Mary, let him take me! Saint Isidore, let him take me--all, all,

all!" This was what she panted to Heaven.

Prosper prayed, "My Lady, I beseech thee a good ending to this

adventure which I have undertaken lightly, it may be, but with an

honest heart. Grant also a good and honourable end to myself, and to

this my wife, who is a Christian without knowing it, and by the help

of thy servants at Gracedieu shall be a better. Per Christum

dominum, etc."

Then he crossed himself, and taught Isoult to do the same, and the

great value of the exercise.

"Now, child," he said, "I have done thee a better turn in teaching

thee to pray and sign thyself meekly and devoutly than ever I did by

wedding thee in the cottage. Thy soul, my dear, thy soul is worth a

hundred times thy pretty person. Saint Bernard, I understand, says,

'My son, think of the worms when thou art disposed to cherish thyself

in a looking-glass.' It is to go far. Saint Bernard was a monk, and

it is a monk's way to think of nastiness; but he was right in the

main. Your soul is the chief part of you. Now to finish: when we are

at Gracedieu thou shalt confess and go to Mass. Then thou wilt be as

good a Christian as I am."