*CHAPTER IV.*
_*A JOURNEY--AND THE END OF IT*_*.*
"A violet by a mossy stone, Half hidden from the eye: Fair as a star when only one Is shining in the sky." --WORDSWORTH.
Bound for the East Countrie! Ay, we are fairly off at last, Amaury andI,--with old Marguerite, and her niece Perette, and Bertrade, Robert'sdaughter, and Robert himself, to wait upon me; and an escort of armedmen, and Amaury's attendants.
Yet it was not all brightness when we came to leave the Castle. Alixand Messire Raymond were there to take leave of us: and I reallyfancied--it must have been fancy!--that there were tears in Alix's eyeswhen she kissed me. There were none in Umberge's, nor in Guillot's.But Raoul cried honestly; though Amaury said afterwards that he believedthree-quarters of Raoul's tears were due to his having to stay behind.Father Eudes gave me his blessing; and he wept too, poor old man! Idare say he was sorry. He was here before I was born. Then the maidensand servants came forward, the women kissing my hand, and the men myrobe: and last of all I came to Monseigneur, our father.
He folded me close in his arms, and bent his head down upon mine; and Ifelt two or three hot tears on my brow.
"My little Lynette!" he said. "My little, little girl! The one bud ofmy one love! Must I let thee go? Ha, well!--it is for thy welfare.The good God bless thee, _mignonne_, and Messeigneurs and Mesdames thesaints. Please God, little maiden, we shall meet in Jerusalem."
"Meet in Jerusalem?" I said in surprise. This was news to me--thatMonseigneur meant to take the cross.
"Ay," said he softly, "in the '_Syon Aurea, ut clarior oro_.' There isan upper City, my child, which is fairer than the lower. Jesu, of Hismercy, bring us both there!"
"Amen!" said Father Eudes. "Dame Mary, pray for us poor sinners!"
There was a great bustle after that, and noise, and clashing; and I donot remember much distinctly, till I got into the litter with Bertrade,and then first Amaury set forth on his charger, with his squires afterhim, and then Marguerite behind Robert on horseback, and Perette behindAmaury's varlet, who is a cousin of hers; and then my litter movedforward, with the armed men around and behind. I just saw them allclearly for one moment--Alix with her lips set, looking at us, as if shewere determined not to say a word; and Messire Raymond smoothing hismoustache; and Guillot with an old shoe poised in the air, which hit myfore postilion the next minute; and Umberge with that fair false smilewith which she deludes every one at first sight; and Monseigneur, withhis arms folded, and the tears fairly running down his cheeks, and hislips working as if he were deeply grieved. Just for one minute therethey all stood; and I think they will make a picture in my eyes till theend of time for me. And then my litter was drawn out of the Castlegate, and the horses tramped across the drawbridge, and down the slopebelow: and I drew the curtain of the litter aside, and looked back tosee my dear old home, the fair strong Castle of Lusignan, growing lessand less behind me every moment, till at last it faded into a more dimspeck in the distance, and I felt that my long and venturesome journeyhad begun.
Oh, why do people never let us know how much they love us, until just aswe unclasp hands and part?
Do they always know it themselves?
And I wonder whether dying is anything like this. Do men go a longjourney to God, with an armed escort of angels, and do they see theworld go less and less behind them as they mount? I will ask Margotwhat she thinks. She is but a villein, in truth, but then she has suchcurious fancies.
I have asked Marguerite, and she shakes her head.
"Ha! no, my Damoiselle. It can be no long journey to God. Father Eudessaid but last Sunday, reading from the Breviary, in his sermon, that 'Heis not far from every one of us.' And the good thief Ditmas, that wascrucified with God, was there in half a day. It can only be a littleway to Heaven. Ah! much less than half a day, it must be; for did notMonseigneur Saint Gabriel, the holy Archangel, begin to fly whenMonseigneur Saint Daniel began to pray?--and he was there before he hadfinished his beads. It is a long while since Father Eudes told us that;and I thought it so comforting, because it showed that Heaven was notfar, and also that the good Lord listens so quickly when we call. Ah!I have to say, 'Wait, Heloise!--I am listening to Perette:' but the goodLord does not need to do that. He can hear my Lady the Queen, and theLady Alix, and Monseigneur Guy, and my Damoiselle, and her servantMarguerite, all at once."
Yes, I suppose it must be so, though I cannot understand it. One has tobelieve so many things that one cannot understand. Do we even know howwe live from day to day? Of course it is known that we have certainorgans in our bodies, by which we breathe, and speak, and walk, anddigest food; but can any one tell _how_ all they do goes to make up whatwe call life? I do not believe it.
We took our way by Poictiers, across the duchies of Berry and Burgundy,and through Franche-Comte, crossing some terrible mountains betweenBesancon and Neufchatel. Then we travelled across Switzerland--Oh, howbeautiful it is! I felt as though I should have been content to staythere, and never go any farther. But Amaury said that was just like asilly girl. What man, said he--with such an accent on the _man_!--everwanted to stop away from gorgeous pageants and gallant deeds of arms,just to stare at a big hill with some snow on it, or a pool of waterwith some trees round it? How could any body make a name in thatfoolish way?--said Messire Amaury.
But old Marguerite thought with me. "Damoiselle," she said, "I am verythankful I came on this journey. Methinks I have a better notion whatHeaven will be like than I had before we left Poitou. I did not knowthe good God was so rich. There seems to be no end to the beautifulthings He can make. Oh, how beautiful He Himself must be! And we shallsee His face. Father Eudes read it."
Whatever one says to Marguerite, she always finds something to say inanswer about the good God. Surely she should have been a nun.
We came into Italy through two great passes,--one over the Juliermountain, so called from Julius Caesar, the great Emperor, who made theroad by help of the black art, and set up two pillars on the summit tocommemorate his deeds: and then, passing through a beautiful valley,where all flowers of the year were out together, and there was a lovelychain of lakes,--(which naughty Amaury scornfully called crocuses anddirty water!)--we wound up hill after hill, until at last it reallyseemed as if we must have reached the top of the world. Here were twosmall lakes, at the foot of a drear slope of ice, which in these partsthey call a glacier: and they call them the Black Lake and the WhiteLake. We had two sturdy peasants as guides over the mountains, and Ishould have liked dearly to talk with them about their country, but ofcourse it would not have been seemly in a damsel of my rank: _noblesseoblige_. But I got Marguerite to ask them several questions, for theirlanguage is sufficiently like the Langue d'Oc[#] for us to understandthem, though they speak very thickly and indistinctly. They toldMarguerite that their beautiful valley is named the Val Engiadina,[#]and they were originally a colony from Italy, who fled from apersecution of the Saracens.[#] This pass is called the Bernina, for_berne_ in their tongue signifies a bear, and there are many bears abouthere in winter. And they say this mountain is the top of the world, forhere the waters separate, on the one side flowing far away into Asia,near the place where Adam dwelt in Paradise;[#] and on the other, intothe great western sea,[#] which we shall shortly have to cross. Andhere, on the very summit of this mountain, dwelt a holy hermit, who gaveme a shelter in his hut, while the men camped outside round great fires;for though it was August, yet at this great height it was quite cold.And so, through the pass, we wound slowly down into Italy.
[#] Two cognate languages were at this time spoken in France; north ofthe Loire, the Langue d'Oil, and south, the Langue d'Oc, both wordsmeaning _yes_ in the respective languages. The more northern languagewas the harsher, _ch_ being sounded as _k_, just as _church_ in Englandbecomes _kirk_ in Scotland. _Cher, chaise, chien_, therefore, werepronounced _ker, kaise, kien_, in the Langue d'Oil.
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br /> [#] The Engadine.
[#] All the evil done or doing in the world was at this time attributedto the Saracens. The colony is supposed to have arisen from the flightof a group of Christians in the persecution under Diocletian.
[#] The Black Sea.
[#] The Mediterranean.
Marguerite and Perette were both full of the beauty they had seen in thegreat glacier, on which they went with the guides: but it would not havedone for a damsel of my rank, and really I saw no beauty in it fromacross the lake; it looked like a quantity of very dirty ice, with ashesscattered over it. But they said it was full of deep cracks orfissures, in which were the loveliest colours that human eye could seeor heart imagine.
"Ah! I can guess now!" said Marguerite. "I could not think whatMonseigneur Saint John meant when he said the city was gold like clearcrystal. I know now. Damoiselle, in the glacier there are walls oflight, the sweetest green shading into blue that my Damoiselle canpossibly imagine: they must be like that, but golden. Ha! if myDamoiselle had seen it! The great nobles have not all the good things.It is well not to be so high up that one cannot see the riches of thegood God."
She has the queerest notions!
Well!--we travelled on through Lombardy, and tarried a few days atMilan, whence we journeyed to Venice, which is the strangest place Iever saw or dreamed of, for all the streets are canals, and one callsfor one's boat where other people order their horses. The Duke ofVenice, who is called the Doge, was very kind to us. He told us atsupper a comical story of a Duchess of Venice who lived about a hundredyears ago. She so dearly loved ease and luxury that she thought it toomuch trouble to eat with her fingers like everybody else; and sheactually caused her attendants to cut her meat into little pieces, likedice, and then she had a curious instrument with two prongs,[#] made ofgold, with which she picked up the bits and put them in her daintymouth. Only fancy!
[#] The first fork on record.
At Venice we embarked, and sailed to Messina, where most of the pilgrimsfor the Holy Land assemble, as it is the most convenient port. We didnot go overland, as some pilgrims do, through the dominions of theByzantine Caesar;[#] but we sailed thence to Crete. I was rather sorryto miss Byzantium,[#] both on account of the beautiful stuffs which aresold there, and the holy relics: but since I have seen a spine of thecrown of thorns, which the Lady de Montbeillard has--she gave sevenhundred crowns for it to Monseigneur de Rheims[#]--I did not care somuch about the relics as I might otherwise have done. Perhaps I shallmeet with the same kind of stuffs in Palestine; and certainly there willbe relics enough.
[#] The Eastern Emperor; his dominions in Europe extended over Greeceand Turkey.
[#] Constantinople.
[#] The Archbishop.
From Crete we sailed to Rhodes, and thence to Cyprus. They all say thatI am an excellent sailor, for I feel no illness nor inconvenience atall; but poor Bertrade has been dreadfully ill, and Marguerite andPerette say they both feel very uncomfortable on the water. At Cyprusis an abbey of monks, on the Hill of the Holy Cross; and here Amaury andhis men were housed for the night, and I and my women at a convent ofnuns not far off. At the Abbey they have a cross, which they say is thevery cross on which our Lord suffered, but some say it is only the crossof Ditmas, the good thief. I was rather puzzled to know whether, therebeing a doubt whether it really is the holy cross, it ought to beworshipped. If it be only a piece of common wood, I suppose it would beidolatry. So I thought it more right and seemly to profess to have abad headache, and decline to mount the hill. I asked Amaury what he haddone.
"Oh! worshipped it, of course," said he.
"But how if it were not the true cross?" I asked.
"My sister, wouldst thou have a knight thus discourteous? The monksbelieve it true. It would have hurt their feelings to show any doubt."
"But, Amaury, it would be idolatry!"
"Ha, bah!" he answered. "The angels will see it put to the rightaccount--no doubt of that. Dear me!--if one is to be for everconsidering little scruples like that, why, there would be no end tothem--one would never do any thing."
Then I asked Marguerite if she went up to worship the holy cross.
"No, Damoiselle," said she. "The Grey Friar said we worship not thecross, but the good God that died thereon. And I suppose He is as nearto us at the bottom of the hill as at the top."
Well, it does look reasonable, I must say. But it must be one ofMarguerite's queer notions. There would be no good in relics and holyplaces if that were always true.
This island of Cyprus is large and fair. It was of old time dedicatedby the Paynims to Venus, their goddess of beauty: but when it fell intoChristian hands, it was consecrated anew to Mary the holy Mother.
From Cyprus we sailed again, a day and a half, to Tyre; but we did notland there, but coasted southwards to the great city of Acre, and thereat last we took land in Palestine.
Here we were lodged in the castle, which is very strong: and we foundalready here some friends of Amaury, the Baron de Montluc and his twosons, who had landed about three weeks before us. Hence we despatched aletter to Guy. I was the writer, of course, for Amaury can writenothing but his name; but he signed the letter with me. Messire Renaudde Montluc, who was setting out for the Holy City, undertook to see theletter safe. We were to follow more slowly.
We remained at Acre about ten days. Then we set forth, Amaury and I,the Baron de Montluc and his son Messire Tristan, and several otherknights who were waiting for a company, with our respective trains; andthe Governor of Acre lent us an additional convoy of armed men, to seeus safe to the Holy City.
This was my first experience of tent life; and very strange it felt, andhorribly insecure. I, accustomed to dwell within walls several feetthick, with portcullis and doors guarded by bolts and bars, in a chamberopening on an inner court, to have no more than one fold of goats' haircanvas between me and the outside world! True, the men-at-arms werecamped outside; but that was no more than a castle garrison: and wherewas the castle?
"Margot," said I, "dost thou not feel horribly frightened?"
For of course, she, a villein, would be more accessible to fear than anoble.
"Oh no, my Damoiselle," she said very quietly. "Is it not in the holyPsalter that 'the Angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fearHim, and delivereth them'? We are as safe as in the Castle ofLusignan."
It is a very good thing for Marguerite and the maidens that I am here.Because, of course, the holy angels, who are of high rank, would neverthink of taking care of mere villeins. It must mean persons of nobleblood.
We journeyed on southwards slowly, pausing at the holyplaces--Capernaum, where Messeigneurs Saint Peter and Saint Andrew dweltbefore they followed our Lord; and where Monseigneur Saint Peter leftMadame his wife, and his daughter, Madame Saint Petronilla, when hebecame our Lord's disciple. Of course, he was obliged to leave thembehind, for a holy apostle could not have a wife. (Marguerite says thatman in sackcloth, who preached at the Cross at Lusignan, said that inthe early ages of the Church, priests and even bishops used to bemarried men, and that it would have been better if they had continued tobe so. I am afraid he must be a very wicked person, and one of thoseheretical Waldenses.) We also tarried a while at Caesarea, where ourLord gave the keys to Monseigneur Saint Peter, and appointed him thefirst Bishop of Rome; and Nazareth, where our Lady was born and spenther early life. Not far from Neapolis,[#] anciently called Sychem, theyshow the ruins of a palace, where dwelt King Ahab, who was a very wickedPaynim, and had a Saracen to his wife. At Neapolis is the well ofMonseigneur Saint Jacob, on which our Lord once sat when He was weary.This was the only holy place we passed which old Marguerite had thecuriosity to go and see.
[#] Nablous.
"Now, what made thee care more for that than any other?" I asked her."Of course it was a holy place, but there was nothing to look at save astone well in a valley. Our Lady's Fountain, at Nazareth, was muchprettier."
"Ah, my Damoiselle
is young and blithe!" she said, and smiled. "It islong, long since I was a young mother like our Lady, and longer stillsince I was a little child. But the bare old well in the stonyvalley--that came home to me. He was weary! Yet He was God. He isrested now, on the throne of His glory: yet He cares for me, that amweary still. So I just knelt down at the old well, and I said to Him,in my ignorant way,--'Fair Father,[#] Jesu Christ, I thank Thee thatThou wert weary, and that by Thy weariness thou hast given me rest.' Itfelt to rest me,--a visit to the place where He sat, tired and hungry.But my Damoiselle cannot understand."
[#] "Bel Pere"--one of the invocations then usual.
"No, Margot, I don't at all," said I.
"Ah, no! It takes a tired man to know the sweetness of rest."
Three days' journey through the Val de Luna, which used to be called theVale of Ajalon, brought us to the city of Gran David, which was of oldnamed Gibeon. The valley is styled De Luna because it was here thatMonseigneur Saint Joshua commanded the sun and moon to stand still whilehe vanquished the Paynims. From Gran David it is only one day's journeyto the Holy City.
"To-morrow, Margot!" said I, in great glee. "Only to-morrow, we shallsee the Holy Sepulchre!"
"Ha! Thanks be to the good God. And we need not wait till to-morrow tosee Him that rose from it."
"Why, Marguerite, dost thou ever have visions?"
"Visions? Oh no! Those are for the holy saints; not for a poorignorant villein woman like me."
"Then what didst thou mean, just now?"
"Ah, my Damoiselle cannot understand."
"Margot, I don't like that. Thou art always saying it. I want tounderstand."
"Then she must ask the good God to show her."
And that is all I can get out of her.
Short of a league from the Holy City is the little hill called MontJoie, because from it the palmers catch the first glimpse of the blessedJerusalem. We were mounting, as it seemed to me, a low hillock, whenAmaury rode up beside me, and parting the curtains, said--
"Now, Elaine, look out, for we are on the Mont Joie. Wilt thou lightdown?"
"Certainly," I answered.
So Amaury stopped the litter, and gave me his hand, and I jumped out.He took me to the place where the palmers kneel in thanksgiving forbeing brought thus far on their journey: and here I had my first sightof the Holy City.
It is but a small city, yet strongly fortified, having three walls. NoPaynim is permitted to enter it, nor of course any heathen Jew. Icannot imagine how it was that the good God ever suffered the Holy City,even for an hour, to be in the hands of those wicked people. Yet lastnight, in the tent, if Marguerite did not ask me whether MonseigneurSaint Paul was not a Jew! I was shocked.
"Oh dear, no!" said I.
"I heard somebody say so," she replied.
"I should think it was some Paynim," said I. "Why, of course none of theholy Apostles were Jews. That miscreant Judas Iscariot, and PontiusPilatus, and all those wicked people, I suppose, were Jews: but not theholy Apostles and the saints. It is quite shocking to think of such athing!"
"Then what were they, if my Damoiselle pleases?" said Marguerite.
"Oh, they were of some other nation," said I.
For really, I do not know of what nation they were,--only that theycould never have been Jews.
Amaury said that we must first visit the Holy Sepulchre; so, though Iwas dying to have news of Guy, I comforted myself with the thought thatI should hereby acquire so much more merit than if I had not cared aboutit.
We entered the Holy City by the west gate, just as the dusk wasbeginning; and passing in single file along the streets, we descendedthe hill of Zion to the Holy Sepulchre.
In this church are kept many holy relics. In the courtyard is theprison where our Lord was confined after His betrayal, and the pillar towhich He was bound when scourged: and in the portico the lance whichpierced His side. The stone which the Angel rolled away from thesepulchre is now broken in two. Here our Lady died, and was buried inthe Church of Saint Mary, close by. In this church is kept the cup ofour Lord, out of which He habitually drank: it is of silver, with ahandle on each side, and holds about a quart. Here also is the spongewhich was held to His mouth, and the crown of thorns. (By a miracle ofthe good God, one half of the crown is also at Byzantium.) The tomb ofour Lord is seven feet long, and rises three palms from the floor;fifteen golden lamps burn before it, day and night. I told the wholeRosary at the holy tomb, or should have done, for I felt that the longerI waited to see Guy, the more merit I should heap up: but Amaury becameimpatient, and insisted on my coming when a Pater and eight Aves werestill to say.
Then we mounted the hill of Zion again, passing the church built inhonour of the Prince of the Apostles, on the spot where he denied ourLord: and so we reached the King's Palace at last.
Amaury sprang from his horse, and motioned my postilion to draw up infront of the chief gate. I heard him say to the porter--
"Is Sir Guy de Lusignan here?"
"My gracious Lord, the Count of Joppa and Ascalon, is here, if it likeyou, noble Sir," replied the porter. "He is at this moment in audienceof my Lady the Queen."
I was so glad to hear it. Then Guy had really been created a Count! Hemust be in high favour. One half of his prophecy was fulfilled. Butwhat about the other?
"Pray you," said Amaury to the porter, "do my Lord Count to wit that hisbrother, Sir Amaury de Lusignan, and his sister, the Lady Elaine, arebefore the gate."
I hardly know how I got through the next ten minutes. Then came quicksteps, a sound of speech, a laugh, and then my curtains were pushedaside, and the voice I loved best in all the world said--
"Lynette! Lynette, my darling!"
Ay, it was my own Guy who came back to me. Changed?--no, not reallychanged at all. A little older; a little more bronzed; a little longerand fuller in the beard:--that was all. But it was my Guy, himself.
"Come! jump out," he said, holding his hand, "and let me present thee tothe Lady Queen. I long to see my Lynette the fairest ornament of herCourt. And how goes it with Monseigneur, our fair father?"
So, talking all the way, I walked with Guy, hand in hand, up the stairs,and into the very bower of the imperial lady who bears the crown of allthe world, since it is the flower of all the crowns.
"I can assure thee," said Guy, "the Lady Queen has often talked of thee,and is prepared to welcome thee."
It was a beautiful room, though small, decorated with carved andfragrant cedar-work, and hung with blue and gold. Round the walls wereblue and gold settles, and three curule chairs in the midst. There wereonly three ladies there,--but I must describe them.
The Queen, who sat in one of the curule chairs, was rather short andstout, with a pleasant, motherly sort of look. She appeared to bebetween forty and fifty years of age. Her daughter, the Lady Isabel,who sat in another chair, busied with some embroidery, was apparentlyabout eighteen; but Guy told me afterwards that she is only fifteen, forwomen ripen early in these Eastern lands, and grow old fast. She hasluxuriant black hair and dark shining eyes. On the settle was a damsel alittle older than the Princess, not quite so dark, nor so handsome.She, as I afterwards found, was the Damoiselle Melisende deCourtenay,[#] a distant relative of the King, who dwells with thePrincesses. Guy led me up to the Queen.
[#] A fictitious person. Millicent is the modern version of this oldGothic name. It comes from Amala-suinde, and signifies_heavenly-wisdom_.
"Madam," said he, "your Highness has heard me often speak of my youngersister."
"Ha! the little Damoiselle Helena?"[#] replied the Queen, smiling verykindly. "Be welcome, my child. I have indeed heard much of you; thisbrother of yours thinks nobody like you in the world,--not even one, eh,Sir Count?--Isabel! I desire thee to make much of the Damoiselle, andlet her feel herself at home. And,--Melisende! I pray thee, give orderfor her lodging, and let her women be seen to. Ah!--here comes anotherwho will be glad to be acquainted with you."
I turned round to see at whom the Queen was looking. An inner door ofthe chamber had just opened, and two ladies were coming into the room.At the one I scarcely looked, save to see that she was old, and wore thegarb of a nun. The other fixed my eyes in an instant.
Shall I say she was beautiful? I do not know. She has a face aboutwhich one never thinks whether it is beautiful or not. She is so sweet,so sweet! Her hair is long, of a glossy golden hue: her eyes are darkgrey, and all her soul shines out in them. Her age seemed about twenty.And Guy said behind me, in a whisper--
"The Lady Sybil of Montferrat."
Something in Guy's tone made me glance suddenly at his face. My heartfelt for a moment as if it stopped beating. The thing that I feared wascome upon me. The whole prophecy was fulfilled: the beautiful ladystood before me. I should be first with Guy no longer.
But I did not feel so grieved as I expected. And when Lady Sybil puther arms round me, and kissed me, and told me I should be her dearlittle sister,--though I felt that matters must have gone very farindeed, yet somehow I was almost glad that Guy had found a heart to lovehim in this strange land.
The old nun proved to be a cousin of the Queen, whom they call LadyJudith.[#] She is an eremitess, and dwells in her cell in the veryPalace itself. I notice that Lady Sybil seems very fond of her.
[#] A fictitious person.
Damoiselle Melisende showed me a nice bed-chamber, where I and my threewomen were to lodge. I was very tired, and the Queen saw it, and in hermotherly way insisted on my having some supper, and going to bed atonce. So I did not even wait to see Amaury again, and Guy went to lookfor him and bring him up to the Queen. The King, being a mesel, dwellsalone in his own rooms, and receives none. When Guy has to communicatewith him, he tells me that he talks with him through a lattice, and afire of aromatic woods burns between them. But I can see that Guy is avery great man here, and has the affairs of the State almost in his ownhands.
I said to Marguerite as I was undressing,--"Margot, I think Count Guy isgoing to marry somebody."
"Why, if it please my Damoiselle?"
"From the way he looks at Lady Sybil, and--other things."
"Your gracious pardon, but--is he less loving to my Damoiselle?"
"Oh no!--more loving and tender than ever, if that be possible."
"Then it is all right," said Marguerite. "He loves her."
"What dost thou mean, Margot?"
"When a man marries, my Damoiselle, one of three things happens. Eitherhe weds from policy, and has no love for his lady; but Monseigneur Guyloves to look at her, so it is not that. Or, he loves himself, and sheis merely a toy which ministers to his pleasure. Then he would beabsorbed in himself and her, and not notice whether any other were happyor unhappy. But if he loves her, with that true, faithful, honourablelove, which is one of God's best gifts, then he will be courteous andtender towards all women, because she is one. And especially to his ownrelatives, being women, who love him, he will be very loving indeed.That is why I asked."
"O Margot, Margot!" I said, laughing. "Where on earth dost thou findall thy queer notions?"
"Not all on earth, my Damoiselle. But, for many of them, all that iswanted is just to keep one's eyes open."
"Are my eyes open, Margot?"
"My Damoiselle had better shut them now," replied Marguerite, a littledrily. "She can open them again to-morrow."
So I went to sleep, and dreamed that Guy married Lady Judith, in hernun's attire, and that I was in great distress at the sacrilege, andcould do nothing to avert it.
Lady Sybil's Choice: A Tale of the Crusades Page 4