“No! And I wept not much. It does no good. My cousin, Father Edwin, is dead.” “I knew not that he ailed!” “Ay, he is dead. And there comes to me warning that Father Edmund will preach against me in Saint Ethelred and at town cross.” “Can there arrive great harm? Middle Forest likes thee pretty well!” “Oh, once, I know, I might have sailed out of storm--” “Why not again?” “With the miracles--with Saint Leofric blazing there? Middle Forest is become good! I tell you I see before me stoning and misery!” He studied the fire. He was inclined to agree with her that her hour had struck. “Well! You have had years of down-lined nest--of merry life!” “So wind will blow less cold and stones bruise less? Merry life? Oh, aye, sometimes!” “What will you do to escape?” “Marry, tell me! Tell me, Rob!” She came and put her hand upon his breast. She felt him draw slightly back from her. She stood away herself and her dark eyes pierced him; she sighed. Presently she said, “Thou, too! thou, too! Well, out of common decency, counsel me!” He cogitated. “While there is yet time you might get secretly away--to London or elsewhere.” “Oh, I want not to go! This is home. I should miss my river and my garden.” “Montjoy?” “In old days he might--because that I look like that Isabel who looked like Our Lady in the Silver Cross picture. But now I know not that he would shield, nor that he could. He hath put himself awry with all the folk.” Somerville laughed. “Aye, I have seen that! Let him speak now against rising zeal at his peril! Out upon him will rush the hive!” He sat regarding her with very bright eyes. “Man lives to learn! Until this moment I knew not that of Montjoy, nor that you are like--as now I see you are like--that picture! Why did you never tell me that?” “I know not. I have some grace--like a little star, far, far away!” He regarded her meditatively. “You are a mixture! A hand shakes the phial until the dregs are on top.” “I wish they were skimmed off and thrown away. But all of me might then be gone, oh, all of me! Tell me what I am to do, Robert!” Leaning back in his chair, he looked now at her and now at the fire. “Priest against priest! Father Edwin dead. Seek afield. None at the Carmelites, no! Saint Leofric gives no help. Silver Cross--” “Oh, Abbot Mark must trot his mule beside Zeal-for-goodness! Not else can he keep apace with the time!” Morgen Fay burst into laughter. She laughed, and then she sat silent with her head bowed upon the settle’s arm. “If he preaches--Father Edmund--at town cross, best were it that you disappear.” “Lock house against better days and vanish--aye, where?” “There’s many a place.” “Aye, far away. I do not will to go far away. May not I have true love beside all the untrue?” “Poor wretch! It is nigh smothered!” said Somerville and laughed; after which he sat in silence and all manner of odd and mocking lights played in his face. “Well, disappear up Wander!” “How far up?”