I had eased my heart in speaking, and so I said no more for the time. Never perhaps had a man a more doubtful future than I, and yet I could have shouted for very joy. She heard not the song of the skylark as it mounted to the heavens, nor the notes of the thrushes as they poured forth their music to God. But I did, and it seemed to me as though they were God's messengers telling me not to be afraid to love, for it was His will. That she could ever love me never came into my heart. How could she? What was I that a maid so peerless in her beauty, so glorious in her life of sacrifice for another, should ever think of me save as one who delighted to do her will? But I had the joy of loving, and although my love were full of pain, and unsatisfied yearnings, I still loved, and rejoiced in it. "Why? Why?" I heard her whisper presently. "Because God would have it so," I made answer. "He brought us together that I might love you, and serve you. And this I will do as long as I have life and thought!" "But if I am thrown into prison?" "I shall still love you. Prison is nothing. Love has broken the bolts from many a prison door before this, aye, and will again." "But what is the use of loving me?" "To serve you." "But if you cannot serve me?" "Then I shall still have the joy of loving you. This let me say: what will happen I know not, but you must not be afraid. I shall be always thinking about you--always." "But the king may keep me in prison for years." "He will not; but if he does, what then? He cannot live for ever. Suppose we never meet again until we are old, I shall still love you." Again there was a long silence between us, so long that I thought she had forgotten all I had said, so long that my mind had begun to wander. I had begun to paint pictures of the future years when we, both grown old, had met again, and I had renewed my vows to her. "But if I were to love another, and wed him, what then?" She said this suddenly, as though the thought had just occurred to her. "I don't know," I said, and my heart grew cold as I spoke. "Of course you can never love me, but I shall pray God that you may never love another." "Love is not for me," she said presently; and I knew she was thinking of what might happen to her. "If I were only worthy it would be," I said. "I have learnt many things since that night before the trial in the Chapel of Herne. I have learnt that love laughs at the wisdom of the wise. Do you know that the walls of Bedford Gaol troubled me not one whit nor did the presence of the gaolers keep me from seeing your face. We are guarded now on the right hand, and on the left. We can hear the rough laugh of those who watch over us, can hear the clanking of their spurs, and the noise of horses' hoofs, but for two hours I have never thought of them. We have our life in our own hearts--that is why."