"One word with thee, sire," Lord Kennedy called after them when they had started for the forest.
"Thou meanest fair by that maiden?" he said, when Sir Richard came back to the door. "She is the bonniest in all Scotland, sire," he added, with a great sincerity of tone.
"Thou hast spoken truth, Lord Kennedy," the young knight answered, reaching out his hand. "And, sir, by the cross of this, my sword, I would liefer have her than any proffered kingdom atop of earth."
"And thou wouldst certes be the gainer," Kennedy answered. "God wot how this may end, sire," he added, shaking his head. Then, grasping Sir Richard's hand for a moment, he turned sadly back into the tavern room.
Before setting out upon their walk the young knight summoned Harold to him and laid injunction upon him to trap his stallion, the jennet, and a third palfrey for a lady.
"It will be for a long journey, mayhap. Lead them so quickly as may be," he told him, "along the road where I first came upon you, and await there my coming."
A little corner within the wood there was which Rocelia and Sir Richard had come to look upon as all their own. Thither in silence they took their way. Upon reaching there she sat down upon a log, leaning her back against a tree; whilst the young knight disposed himself upon the moss at her feet.
Rocelia's eyes bore plain evidence that she had been weeping. Indeed she seemed in the most melancholy of moods; and, when Sir Richard made bold to comfort her, would not suffer him even to take her hand. Then with many halts and sighs she repeated to him what Bishop Kennedy had said to her. Which, in effect, was, that it would be wrong for them to be another time alone together. That Sir Richard, being the lawful heir to the crown, must have a care of the proprieties, and seek companionship among those who were his equals. All this and much more Rocelia told him, bravely, with her soft eyes looking sad into his; her sweet lips never once faltering from the difficult task imposed upon them.
"But," said Sir Richard, "did I not swear to you last night, Rocelia, that I would never be king? I am seeking now, and in you, dear, a companion through life. Whether you say me yea or nay, 'twill be all the same. I mean to leave upon this very day. Will you not trust——"
"Ah! Richard," she said, sweetly, "speak not that word. All trust do I impose in you. It is not that, dear," laying her hand lightly upon his bared head; "no, 'tis not that. It is that I—I love you too well and dearly to assist in this sacrifice of your splendid future. No—no! you must not, Richard ... indeed, you must not. I may never lay lips upon yours, dear. But, mayhap, you will remember me for a while as a simple maid who dared to tell you that she loved you; and who, loving you, surrendered you to her country ... and begged you, prayed you to assert your rightful position within its boundaries."