Quickly he ejaculated:
“With me, forever, and safe!”
The maiden remembering many an admonition she had heard concerning the inconstancy of lovers, yet driven forward by the all-abandoning love of her woman’s heart, gave voice to all she felt and feared in one vehement interrogation:
“Oh, Charleroy, if I forsake all for my love of thee shall I ever be discarded by——?”
The knight interpreted her meaning in advance, and answered by an embrace that was all-assuring. He was rejoiced beyond words, for he knew full well that hesitation and questionings like hers were on the rim of full surrender. Suddenly he became very serious and felt that peculiar glow that came over him the day of his departure from England when the bishop blessed him. He appreciated in a measure the responsibility following such a committal of another’s life to himself as Rizpah was making, and he embraced her with an anxious reverence, such as a pietist feels clasping an ideal of his God. It was well for both that the man was thus impressed by the committal of that maiden of her soul and body to his pilotage. Pity the woman who reaches the extremity Rizpah had reached if her conqueror be not white-souled and sincere.
Rizpah an incarnation of passion, a wreath of lotus flowers on a sea of delight, tossed by the winds, borne by the tides, surrendered all thoughts that might disturb, that she might enjoy what she had embraced as her fate to the full.
Sir Charleroy constantly prayed within himself, “My mother’s God help me to deal as purely with my sacred charge as I would with the Virgin Patron of my knightly order, were she here now to seek my knightly services.” The prayer was effectual, for the Knight sincerely sought to make it so.
Decisive action followed this interview between the lovers. That very night they fled together from Gerash, and with only one trusty servant; after many vicissitudes they reached Damascus. For a time Rizpah placated her conscience by asserting that she would not consent to the wedding ceremonial until it could have her father’s approval, or that of some Jewish Rabbi. Finding it impossible to obtain these, she irresolutely suggested the advisability of delaying until some change, quite vaguely apprehended, might come. But there were two Rizpah’s—one that wanted to be a faithful Jewess, and one that wanted only and constantly a darling idol. Sir Charleroy sided with the latter; it was two to one, and the one surrendered. Ere long a Christian missionary at Damascus sealed the vows. They confided their story to him, as if to ask his advice as to what they had best do, but with the impetuosity of lovers they had decided their course before they asked advice, and did not even ask it until they had pledged their vows before this priest. But it was a balm to conscience to ask advice. And the Sacrist answered them briefly: “Venus and Mercury, fabled deities of love and wisdom. They are much alike in the firmament, and revolve in orbits in accord with the earth’s. Methinks it is wisdom to love in the earth. But, children, Venus sets sooner than Mercury; see to it that you make it your wisdom to love as long as you go round with the world.” Then they both said “Amen.” For a moment Sir Charleroy heard within him that impressive sound as of the beating of mighty, departing wings. He dragged his attention quickly from the introspection to gaze into the eyes of his bride. He was glad that a Christian priest had prayed for a blessing upon himself and her, but all sophistry aside, the truth remained. Astarte’s was the presiding spirit at that wedding.