She muttered something inaudible with her lips, and went out without

looking at him again. Every bone in her body ached so cruelly that she

could hardly drag herself along. She could neither think nor cry out;

what strength she had went towards carrying this new load, which,

while it paralyzed, for the present numbed her as well. The mistress

of the novices was shocked to see her white drawn face, heavily-

blacked eyes, and to hear a dead voice come dully from such pretty

lips.

"My dear heart," said the good woman, "you are tired to death. Come

with me to the still-room; I will give you a cordial." The liquor at

least sent some blood to her face and lips, with whose help she was

able to find her bed. For that night she had for bedfellow a fat nun,

who snored and moaned in her sleep, was fretful at the least stir, and

effectually prevented her companion from snoring, in turn, if she had

been afflicted with that disease. Isoult stirred little enough: being

worn out with grief entirely new to her, to say nothing of her fatigue

of travel, she lay like a log and (what she had never done before)

dreamed horribly. Very early, before light, she was awake and face to

face with her anguish again. She lay in a waking stupor, fatally

sensible, but incapable of responsible action. She had to hear

Prosper's voice in the courtyard sharply inquiring of the way, his

words to his horse, all his clinking preparations; she heard his high-

sung "Heaven be with you; pray for me," and the diminishing chorus of

Saracen's hoofs on the road. She trembled so much during this torment

that she feared to shake the bed. Very weakness at last took pity on

her; she swooned asleep again, this time dreamless. The fat nun

getting up for Prime, also took enough pity upon her to let her he. So

it was that Prosper left Gracedieu.




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