It is the spark from heaven, the stolen
fire, the mask of divinity with which the poorest of mankind may play
himself a god. It has all powers, and it brings all gifts--the gift of
tongues, for it is above words; the gift of prophecy, for it has
foreknowledge of its own sadness; the gift of life, for it is itself
that elixir in which mankind boasts of eternal youth.
The two sat side by side and talked, and were silent, and talked again,
understanding each other and happy in finding more to understand. The
sun rose high and fell through the rustling leaves in fanciful warm
tracery of light; down from the Bosphorus the sweet northerly breeze
came over the rippling water, laden with the scent of orange-blossoms
from the Asian shore and with the perfume of late roses from far
Therapia. Between the trees they could see the white sails of little
vessels beating to windward up the narrow channel, and now and then the
dyed canvas of a fisherman's craft set a strangely disquieting note of
colour upon the sea. There seemed to be no time, for all life was
theirs, and it was all before them; an hour had passed, and they had
not told each other half; another came and went, and what there was to
tell still gained upon them.
[Illustration: BEATRIX AND GILBERT]
They talked of the Crusade, and of how the Queen had given her ladies
no choice, commanding them to follow her, as a noble would order his
vassals to rise with him to the king's war. Three hundred ladies were
to wear mail and lead the van of battle, the fairest ladies of France
and Aquitaine, of Gascony, of Burgundy, and of Provence.
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