"I was foolish to attempt it when you were not near," she said softly, as he loosened his hold on the level path.
"How glad I was to be in time, and you cannot know how my heart leaped when you had to come, to me and I held you in my arms, even for a moment," he says brokenly.
They come now to a few yards of narrow path, a steep precipice at one side. With a whispered "may I?" his arm is around her in guiding her steps; no word is spoken and we all know the silent ecstasy of such moments. A turn in the path and they come upon Lady Esmondet, seated on a rocky seat (she having taken a safer way) and listening to the sweet voice still singing.
"I wonder if they will admit us," said Lady Esmondet.
"I can try," answered Lionel, and moving down the few natural steps to the iron gate of the garden, rang the bell.
The gate was opened by a priest, an elderly man, severe of aspect, but courteous in manner, and a man of letters from his intellectual cast of countenance. In very good English, he said:
"In the name of Saint Gregory, I welcome you; whether you come for food for the soul or body, our prayers are yours, and our poor fare awaits you."
"Thank you, sir priest," said Lady Esmondet; "we shall just admire your chapel and garden and go on our way."
"We were attracted from the direct path by a magnificent voice within your walls," said Vaura.
"Yes, Brother Thomas is greatly gifted; well for him that his great powers are given to good, rather than to evil. The sacred festival of the birth of the Christ is so near, and our brother sings at Paris the joyful songs of his nativity. This being a Saint's day, some of the younger brothers of our order have begged our sweet singer of the churches to pour forth the notes of his melody, that they also, may feel as the Parisiens, the wonderful power and charm of his song."