“Laure, Laure, is it thy intent to drive me mad? Faith, what man would forbear as I have forborne with thee? Thinkest thou any one would wait for weeks, nay, months, as I have waited, and feel thee at last free and in his arms, to be instantly thrust away again? Nay, by my soul! Thou art here, and thou art mine, and I have much to ask of thee. Christ! Thine eyes! Thy hair! Laure, I shall bear thee away from this prison-house. I will have thee for all mine own. Thou must leave thy cell by night, and come to me here. Outside the wall Yvain will wait with horses; and we will ride away—ride like hounds—out of this land of tears, southward, into the country of freedom and roses and love! There we shall dwell together, thou and I—thou and I—Laure, Laure, my sweet! And who in all God’s earth before hath known such joy as we shall know! Answer me, Laure, answer me! Say thou’lt come!” Once again he took her in his arms, but more calmly now, the force of his passion having spent itself in words but half articulate. And now he perceived how she was all trembling and afraid; and so he soothed her with gentle phrases and tender caresses, for indeed Flammecœur loved this maid as truly as it was in him to love at all. And it seemed to him a joy to have the protecting of her. “Speak to me, answer me, greatly beloved,” he insisted, drawing her face up to his. Laure clung to him and wept, and did not speak. All that followed was but a confusion of kisses, of pleadings, of tears and restraints, to both of them; and presently Laure was struggling from his arms and crying to him that it was near matins, and she must go. Once again, and finally, Flammecœur demanded a reply to his plea. There was hesitation, doubting, evident desire, and very evident fear. Then, staking everything, he urged her thus,— “Listen, Laure. I would not have thee decide all things now in thy mind. In one week I will be here, as to-night, at the same hour, in this place; and all things will be prepared for our flight. If thou come to me before the matins bell rings out, all will be well, and we shall go forth together into heaven. If thou come not,—why, I have tarried far too long in this Bretagne, and Yvain and I will go on together into the world, and thou shalt see me no more forever. Fair choice and honorable I give thee, for that I love thee better than myself. Now fare thee well, lady of my heart’s delight. God in His sweet mercy give thee into my keeping!” With a final kiss he put her from him and saw her go; and then he threw himself over the wall, and set out on his return ride to the Castle by the sea.