“Would that even now I could march with you,” I said; and she, smiling, made answer—­

“That shall yet be; yea, verily,” and here the fashion of her countenance altered wondrously, “I know, and know not how I know, that thou shalt be with me when all have forsaken me and fled.”

Then she fell silent, and I also, marvelling on her face and on the words which she spoke.  There came a light tap at the door, and she awoke as it were from a trance which possessed her.  She drew her hands over her face, with a long sigh; she knelt down swiftly, and crossed herself, making an obeisance, for I deem that her saints had been with her, wherefore I also crossed myself and prayed.  Then she rose and cried “Enter!” and ere I could speak she had passed into the oratory, and I was alone with Elliot.

Elliot gave one low cry, and cast her arms about my neck, hiding her face on my breast, and sobbing as if her heart would break.

“I have been mad, I have been bad!” she moaned.  “Oh! say hard words to me, and punish me, my love.”

But I had no word to say, only I fell back into a great chair for very weakness, holding my lady in my arms.

And thus, with words few enough, but great delight, the minutes went past, till she lifted her wet face and her fragrant hair; and between laughing and crying, studied on my face and caressed me, touching my thin cheek, and wept and laughed again.  “I was mad,” she whispered; “it seemed as if a devil entered into me.  But She spoke to me and cast him out, and she bade me repent.”

“And do penance,” I said, kissing her till she laughed again, saying that I was a hard confessor, and that the Maid had spoken no word of penances.

“Yet one I must do and suffer,” she said, “and it is more difficult to me than these austerities of thine.”

Here her face grew very red, and she hid it with her hands.

“What mean you?” I asked, wondering.

“I must see her, and thank her for all her kindness to thee.”

“The Maid?” I asked.

“Nay, that other, thy—­fair nurse.  Nay, forbid me not, I have sworn it to myself, and I must go.  And the Maiden told me, when I spoke of it, that it was no more than right.”  Then she threw her arms about me again, in the closest embrace, and hid her head.  Now, this resolve of hers gave me no little cause of apprehension, as not knowing well how things might pass in such an encounter of two ladies.  But even then one touched me on the shoulder from behind, and the Maid herself stood beside us.

“O joy!” she said, “my peacemaking has been blessed!  Go, you foolish folk, and sin no more, and peace and happiness be with you, long years, and glad children at your knees.  Yet hereof I know nothing from my counsel.  And now I must go forth about the Dauphin’s business, and to do that for which I was sent.  They that brought thee in the litter will carry thee back again; so farewell.”