So Prosper and Isoult sat upon the bench and made the most of it, and he, being a cheerful soul, talked and joked with Brother Bonaccord.
Isoult never raised her eyes once, nor spoke a word; as for the numbed old soul by the fire; she kept her back resolutely on the room, muttered her charms and despair, and warmed her dry hands as before.
When they had eaten what they could there came a change. The friar ceased talking; the old man faced Prosper with a queer look. "Sir, have you well-eaten and drunken?" he asked.
Prosper thanked him; he had done excellently.
"Well, now," said the man, "as I have heard, after the bride-feast comes the bridal. Will your worship rest with the bride brought home?"
Prosper got up in an awkward pause. He looked at the man as if he were possessed of the devil. Then he laughed, saying, "Are you merry, old rogue?"
"Nay, sir," said the ancient, "it is no jest. If she mate not this night--and it"s marriage for choice with this holy man--come sunrise she"ll be hanged on the Abbot"s new gallows. For, she is suspected of witchcraft and many abominations."
"Is she your daughter, you dog, and do you speak thus of your daughter?" cried Prosper in a fury.
"Sir," said the man, "who would own himself father to a witch?
Nevertheless she is my daughter indeed."
"What is the meaning of all this? Would you have me marry a witch, old fool?" Prosper shouted at him. The man shrugged.
"Nay, sir, but I said it was marriage for choice--seeing the friar was to hand. We know their way, to marry as soon as look at you. But it"s as you will, so you get a t.i.tle to her, to take her out of the country."
Prosper turned to look at Isoult. He saw her standing before the board, her head hung and her two hands clasped together. Her breathing was troubled--that also he saw. "G.o.d"s grace!" thought he to himself, "is she so fair without and within so rotten? Who has been ill- ordering the world to this pa.s.s?" He watched her thoughtfully for some time; then he turned to her father.
"See now, old scamp," he said, "I have sworn an oath to high G.o.d to succour the weak, to right wrong, and to serve ladies. Nine times under the moon I sware it, watching my arms before the cross on Starning Waste. Judge you, therefore, whether I intend to keep it or not. As for your daughter, she can tell you whether some part of it I have not kept even now. But understand me, that I do not marry on compulsion or where love is not. For that were a sin done toward G.o.d, and me, and a maid."
The old rascal blinked his eyes, jerking his head many times at the shameful girl. Then he said, "Love is there fast and sure. She is all for loving. They call her Isoult la Desirous, you must know."
"Yes," said Prosper, "I do know it, for she has told me so already."
"And to-morrow she will desire no more, since she will be hanged,"
said Matt-o"-the-Moor.
Prosper started and flushed, and--
"That is a true gospel, brother," put in the friar. "The Abbot means to air his gallows at her expense; but there is worse than a gallows to it. What did I tell you of the Black Monks when you called "em White? There is a coal-black among them who"ll have her if the gallows have her not. It is Galors or gallows, fast and sure."
Prosper rubbed his chin, looked at the friar, looked at Matt, looked at Isoult. She neither lifted her head nor eyes, though the others had met him st.u.r.dily enough. She stood like a saint on a church porch; he thought her a desperate Magdalen.
"Isoult, come here," said he. She came as obediently as you please, and stood before him; but she would not look up until he said again, "Isoult, look me in the face." Then she did as she was told, and her eyes were unwinking and very wide open, full of dark. She parted her lips and sighed a little, shivering somewhat. It seemed to him as if she had been with the dead already and seen their kingdom. Prosper said, "Isoult is this true that thou wilt be hanged to-morrow?"
"Yes, lord," said Isoult in a whisper.
"Or worse?"
"Yes, lord," she said again, quivering.
"Save only thy lot be a marriage this night?"
"Yes, lord," she said a third time. So he asked,
"Art thou verily what this old man thy father hath testified against thee--a witch, a worker of iniquity and black things, and of abominations with the devil?"
Isoult said in a very still voice--"Men say that I am all this, my lord."
But Prosper with a cry called out, "Isoult, Isoult, now tell me the truth. Dost thou deserve this death?"
She sighed, and smiled rather pitifully as she said--
"I cannot tell, lord; but I desire it."
"Dost thou desire death, child?" cried he, "and is this why thou art called La Desirous?"
"I desire to be what I am not, my lord, and to have that which I have never had," she answered, and her lip trembled.
"And what is that which you are not, Isoult?"
She answered him "Clean."
"And what is that which you have never had, my child?"
"Peace," said Isoult, and wept bitterly.
Then Prosper crossed himself very devoutly, and covered his face while he prayed to his saint. When he had done he said, "Cease crying, Isoult, and tell me the truth, by G.o.d and His Christ, and Saint Mary, and by the face of the sky. Art thou such a one as I would wed if love were to grow between me and thee, or art thou other?"
She ceased her crying at this and looked him full in the face, deadly pale. "What is the truth to you concerning me?" she said.
He answered her, "The truth is everything, for without it nothing can have good beginning or good ending."
This made her meek again and her eyes misty. She held out a hand to him, saying, "Come into the night, and I will tell my lord."
He took it. Hand-in-hand they went out of the cottage, and hand-in- hand stood together alone under the sky. It was still black and heavy weather, but without rain. Isoult dropped his hand and stood before him. She shut her arms over her breast so that her two wrists crossed at her throat. Looking full at him from under her brows she said--
"By G.o.d and His Christ, and Saint Mary, and by the face of the sky, I will tell you the truth, lord. If the witch"s wax be not as abominable as the witch, or the vessel not foul that hath held a foul liquor, then thou couldst never point scorn at me."
"Speak openly to me, my child," said Prosper, "and fear nothing."
So she said, "I will speak openly. I am no witch, albeit I have seen witchcraft and the revelry of witches on Deerleap. And though I have seen evil also I am a maiden, my lord, and such as you would have your own sister to be before she were wed."
But Prosper put her from him at an arm"s-length. He was not yet satisfied.
"What was thy meaning then," he asked, "to say that thou wouldst be that which thou wert not?" He could not bring himself to use the word which she had used; but she used it again.
"Ah, clean!" she said with a weary gesture. "Lord, how shall I be clean in this place? Or how shall I be clean when all say that I am unclean, and so use towards me?" She began to cry again, quite silently. Prosper could hear the drips fall from her cheeks to her breast, but no other sound. She began to moan in her trouble--"Ah, no, no, no!" she whispered, "I would not wed with thee, I dare not wed with thee."
"Why not?" said Prosper.
"I dare not, I dare not!" she answered through her teeth, and he felt her trembling under his hand. He thought before he spoke again. Then he said--
"I have vowed a vow to my saint that I will save you, soul and body; and if it can be done only by a wedding, then we will be married, you and I, Isoult. But if by battle I can serve your case as well, and rid the suspicion and save your neck, why, I will do battle."