‘Nothing, Joan.’
‘O, I know you, i’faith! I have said something.’
‘Whatever it was, I would not have it unsaid for all Joan’s world.’
He kissed her, laughing against her very cheek; then turned instantly sober, and, putting his arm about her, led her on.
‘So,’ said he, ‘it is settled, and let us forget it. What does it all weigh against the treasure of our love? For its safe-conduct and disposal, methinks I must take my friend the Ancient into my confidence, and in the meantime where it lies it is secure. Look, Joan—what gold a thousand times dearer greets thee!’
He had stopped her suddenly, pointing to a little flower at her very shoe point. It was a solitary primrose blossom, late or early there was no telling; but there it was, staring up at Joan. Brion lifted his head, and challenging the full round sun, ‘Clerivault, Clerivault!’ cried he—‘Where England sets her feet! Look down and see the primrose break!’
[The End]
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES.
Minor spelling inconsistencies (e.g. apostacy/apostasy, gallanty-show/gallanty show, etc.) have been preserved.
Alterations to the text: