"Wait for me, Malcolm, I am going down to you."
Great joy is a wonderful purifier, and Madge's cry finished the work of the past few months and made a good man of me, who all my life before had known little else than evil.
Soon Madge's horse was led by a groom to the mounting block, and in a few minutes she emerged gropingly from the great door of Entrance Tower. Dorothy was again a prisoner in her rooms and could not come down to bid me farewell. Madge mounted, and the groom led her horse to me and placed the reins in my hands.
"Is it you, Malcolm?" asked Madge.
"Yes," I responded, in a voice husky with emotion. "I cannot thank you enough for coming to say farewell. You have forgiven me?"
"Yes," responded Madge, almost in tears, "but I have not come to say farewell."
I did not understand her meaning.
"Are you going to ride part of the way with me—perhaps to Rowsley?" I asked, hardly daring to hope for so much.
"To France, Malcolm, if you wish to take me," she responded murmuringly.
For a little time I could not feel the happiness that had come upon me in so great a flood. But when I had collected my scattered senses, I said:—