A Monk of Fife eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 388 pages of information about A Monk of Fife.

A Monk of Fife eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 388 pages of information about A Monk of Fife.

Elliot spoke no word, but drawing me very heedfully to a settle that was by the side of the room, she fled without looking behind her.

“Sir,” I said, as soon as she was gone, “I need make no long story—­”

“Faith, no!” he answered, standing back from the banner and holding his hands at each side of his eyes, regarding his work as limners do.  “You twain, I doubt not, were smitten senseless by these great masterpieces, and the thought of the holy use to which they were made.”

“That might well have been, sir, but what we had covenanted to tell you this day we have told unwittingly, methinks, already.  I could not be in your daughter’s company, and have the grace of her gentle ministerings—­”

“But you must stand senseless before her father’s paintings?  Faith, you are a very grateful lad!  But so it is, and I am not one of those blind folk who see not what is under their eyes.  And now, what now?  Well, I can tell you.  You are to be healed, and follow these flags to war, and win your spurs, and much wealth by ransoms, and so make my lass your lady.  Is it not so?”

I was abashed by his “bourdes,” and could say nought, for, being still very weak, the tears came into my eyes.  Then he drew near me, limping, and put his hand on my shoulder, but very gently, saying—­

“Even so be it, my son, as better may not be.  ’Tis no great match, but I looked, in this country, for nothing nobler or more wealthy.  That my lass should be happy, and have one to fend for her, there is my affair, and I am not one of those fathers who think to make their daughters glad by taking from them their heart’s desire.  So cheer up!  What, a man-at-arms weeping!  Strange times, when maids lead men-at-arms and men-at-arms weep at home!”

With these words he comforted me, and made me welcome, for indeed he was a kind man and a wise; so many there are that cause shrewd sorrow when there should be joy in their houses!  This was never his way, and wise do I call him, for all that has come and gone.

In a little time, when I had thanked him, and shown him, I trow, how he stood in my love, he bade me go to my chamber and be at rest, saying that he must take thought as to how matters stood.

“For you are not yet fit to bear arms, nor will be for these many days.  Nor is it seemly, nor our country’s custom, that my maid should dwell here in the house with you, as things are between you, and I must consider of how I may bestow her till you march with your troop, if marching there is to be.”

This I dared not gainsay, and so I went to my chamber with a heart full of grief and joy, for these hours that are all of gladness come rarely to lovers, and to me were scantly measured.  Perchance it was for my soul’s welfare, to win me from the ways of the world.

But to Elliot and me that night bore no joy, but sorrow, albeit passing.  At supper we met, indeed, but she stayed with us not long after supper, when my master, with a serious countenance, told me how he had taken counsel with a very holy woman, of his own kin, widow of an archer, and how she was going on pilgrimage to our Lady of Puy en Velay, by reason of the jubilee, for this year Good Friday and the Annunciation fell on the same day.

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A Monk of Fife from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.