‘I must strive to earn them by deeds,’ said Hal. ‘And—’
‘Well spoken, lad! ‘Tis the manly way; but methought you hadst interest with this King of thine, or hath he only a royal memory for services?’
‘He is good to me. Yea, most good,’ began Harry.
‘Ay, he loves the boy,’ said Sir Giles, ‘no question about that; but his memory for all that is about him hath failed, and there is nothing for it save to wait for the Queen and the Prince, who will bear the boy’s father’s services in mind.’
‘And wherefore tarries the French woman? This maid’s father is to come over with her. He is forming her English court, I trow; she can have few beside from England.’
‘When he comes,’ said Harry, with a look into Anne’s eyes that made them droop and her cheeks burn, ‘then shall we put it to the touch. Then shall I know whether I have mine own, and what is more than mine own.’
‘Thine own,’ whispered Anne. ‘Oh, better live in the sheepfolds with thee than with this Baron! I shudder at the thought.’
This, and a few more such words were an aside, while the Prioress continued her conversation with Sir Giles, and went on to say that she was sure she should never recover till she was out of these walls, and away from London smoke and London smells, and she naughtily added in a whisper the weary talk of these good nuns, who had never flown a hawk or chased a deer in their lives, and thought Florimond a mere wolf, if not the evil one himself, and kept the poor hound chained up like a malefactor in gyves, till she was fain to send him away with Master Lorimer to keep for her.
She would not go back to her Priory till Anne’s fate was settled, being in hopes of doing something yet for the poor wench; but meantime she should die if she stayed there much longer, and she meant to set forth on pilgrimage in good time, before she had scandalised the good ladies enough to make them gossip to the dames of St. Helen’s, who would be only too glad to have a story against the Benedictines. A ride over the Kentish downs was the only cure for her or for Anne, who had been pining ever since they had been mewed up here, though, looking across at the girl, whose head was leaning against the bars, Sir Giles seemed to have brought a remedy to judge by those cheeks.
‘Would that we could hope it would be an effectual and lasting remedy,’ sighed Sir Giles; ‘but unless this poor King could be roused to insist, or the Earl of Warwick fell out with his cousin, I do not see much chance for the lad.’