"Oh, but it is such pleasure to tell one's thoughts to Guy," I replied. "He generally thinks as I do; and when he does not, he talks the thing over with me, and it usually ends in my thinking as he does. Then if I am sad, he comforts me; and if I am rejoicing, he rejoices with me; and—O Margot! it is like talking to another me."
"My Damoiselle," said Marguerite, with a peculiar smile which I have seen on her lips before, and never could understand—it is so glad and sunny, yet quiet and deep, as if she were rejoicing over some hidden treasure which she had all to herself,—"My Damoiselle has said well. 'He that is joined to the Lord is one spirit.' 'If we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship one with another.' My Damoiselle does not yet know what it is to speak out freely all her thoughts to One who is infinitely high and wise, and who loves her with an infinite love. I am but a poor ignorant villein woman: I know very little about any thing. Well! I take my ignorant mind to Him who knows all things, and who can foresee the end from the beginning. I do not know any grand words to pray with. I just say, 'Sir[#] God, I am very much puzzled. I do not know what to do for the best. Put the best thing into my head. Thou knowest.' Every night, before I go to sleep, the last thing, I say in my heart, 'Sir God, I do not know what is good, and what is evil for me. Thou knowest. Give me the good things to-night, and keep the evil ones away.' I suppose, if I were very wise and clever, I should not make such poor, ignorant prayers. I should know then what would be best to do. Yet I do not think I should be any better off, for then I should see so much less of the good Lord. I would rather have more of the good God, and less of the quick wit and the ready tongue."
[#] Though this title will certainly sound strange, if not irreverent, to modern ears, it was meant as the most reverent epithet known to those who used it.
It would be nice to feel as Margot does. I cannot think where she got it But it would never do for me, who am noble, to take pattern from a poor villein. I suppose such thoughts are good for low, ignorant people.
What should I have done if I had been born a villein? I cannot imagine what it would feel like. I am very glad I was not. But of course I cannot tell what it would feel like, because nobles have thoughts and feelings of quite a different sort to common people.
I suppose Guy would say that was one of my queer notions. He always says more queer ideas come into my head than any one else's.
O Guy, Guy!—when shall I see thee again? Two whole years, and not a word from thee! Art thou languishing in some Paynim dungeon? Hast thou fallen in some battle? Or has the beautiful lady come, and thy little Lynette is forgotten?
I have been asking Father Eudes to tell me something about the Holy Land, for I want to be able to picture to myself the place where Guy is. And of course Father Eudes can tell, for he knows all about every thing; and he had an uncle who was a holy palmer, and visited the blessed Sepulchre, and used to tell most beautiful legends, he says, about the Holy Land. Beside which, his own father fought for the Sepulchre in the second Crusade, and dwelt in that country for several years.
Father Eudes says it is nearly a hundred years since the kingdom of Jerusalem was founded, for it was in the year of our Lord 1099, at the time of the first Crusade. The first King was the gallant Count Godefroy of Boulogne, who was unanimously chosen by all the Christian warriors after the Holy City was taken: but he would never call himself King, but only "Defender of the Holy Sepulchre." But, alas!—the good King Godefroy only reigned one year; and on his death the Princes all assembled in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, which they also call the Temple, to elect a successor. And because there were great contentions among them, they resolved to decide the choice by lot: and they stood around the tomb of our Lord, each holding a long taper, and earnestly besought the good God that He would cause the taper held by him who ought to be King of Jerusalem to be lighted by miracle. And when the prayer was ended, one of the tapers was found to be burning. It was that held by Duke Robert the Courthose, son of Lord William the Norman, who conquered England. But to the horror of all the Princes, Duke Robert blew out the taper, and refused to be King. He said that he was not worthy to wear a crown of gold in that place where for his sins our Lord had worn a crown of thorns. And I really have always felt puzzled to know whether he acted very piously or very impiously. So, in the end, the brother of King Godefroy was chosen; but he also left no child, though he reigned eighteen years. But the Lady Ida, his sister, who was a very wise and preux[#] lady, had a son, and he reigned after his uncle for thirteen years: yet at his death he left four daughters, and no son. And Father Eudes thinks that this showed the displeasure of our Lord, who had willed that the kingdom of Jerusalem should belong to our Lords the Kings of England, and they wickedly refused to receive it.
[#] Brave, noble, chivalrous.