At daylight, warming themselves at a fire, Dunstan told Alric all that
happened in the night. The Saxon's stolid face did not change, but he
was thoughtful and silent for some time, remembering how the Lady Goda
had once had him beaten, long ago, because he had not held Sir Arnold's
horse in the right way when the knight was mounting.
Presently Beatrix's Norman tirewoman came to the two men, wrapped in a
brown cloak with a hood that covered half her face. She told them that
her lady knew of Sir Arnold's coming, and begged of Sir Gilbert that
for her sake he would walk by the river at noon, when every one would
be at dinner in the camp, and she would try and meet him there.
CHAPTER XXI
Gilbert waited long, for he went down early to the river, and he sat on
a big stone sunning himself, for the air was keen, and there was a
north wind. At last he saw two veiled women coming along the bank. The
shorter one was a little lame and leaned upon the other's arm, and the
wind blew their cloaks before them as they came. When he saw that
Beatrix limped, knowing that she had not quite recovered from her fall,
and remembering that she might have been killed, his heart sank with a
sickening faintness.
He took her by the hand very gently, for she looked so slight and ill
that he almost feared to touch her, and yet he did not wish to let her
fingers go, nor she to take them away. The tirewoman went down to the
river-bank, at some distance, and they sat upon the big stone, hand in
hand like two children, and looked at each other.
Pages:
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306