Leofric looked at him with surprise.
"Then thou hast seen her again?"
"Yes, truly I have. I have avoided the house of the Balzanis for many a year, thinking it better not to revive associations which must be painful. But I have heard men speak of Lotta—the beautiful, daring Lotta. Many there be who would serve for her, even as Jacob for Rachel; but it seems that she will none of them. Hearing always of Lotta and never of Linda made me question within myself whether that maid had died. I asked, and found that she had never returned to Oxford, but remained with her aunt at Eynsham, having grown to be as a daughter to her. I scarce know what it was that first awakened within me the desire to look upon her face once more, but once awakened the wish would not sleep, and at last I accomplished my purpose."
"Thou hast seen her again?"
"Yes, verily; not once, but many times. Leofric, I am taking thee with me to-day, that thou mayest see her too; for if ever the foot of angel trod the paths of men, that angel being is the lovely Linda of my boyhood's and manhood's love."
Leofric was greatly surprised, having believed, with all the rest of his comrades, that the youthful infatuation of Hugh le Barbier for Linda Balzani had quite passed away.
Her name had not crossed his lips, so far as any knew, since the excitement following upon his rescue from the Magician's Tower had died down. The whole episode seemed to have come utterly to an end, and those who knew Hugh's circumstances thought it well, as he was of the stuff which might cause him to rise in the world.
The boat was riding at a fair rate of speed through the water, and the Priory walls of Eynsham gradually loomed in sight. It was a quaint, lonely, old-world spot, this little community lying hidden in the winding valley, far away from any other abode of man. There was a charm in the low-lying meadows, in the grand old trees, in the herds of deer that came down from the forest to drink at the river. Fish and wild fowl abounded in these solitudes, and the appearance of a white-sailed boat wrought astonishment and commotion amongst them. It was a place where life might well be dreamed away in pious meditation and contemplation. It was an ideal spot for a monastery; but Leofric had come to feel of late that more was desired of man than mere contemplation and meditation—more even than mere study and the acquiring or propagating knowledge. The life of the cloister had never greatly attracted him; now he felt that it would be nothing better than death in life.
A little winding backwater opened before them at this point, and Hugh, furling the sail, took up the oars and rowed quietly into the dim, narrow place. As he did this he uttered a low, sweet whistling call, not unlike that of some bird; and very soon Leofric became aware of a fluttering of white drapery, and a low, soft voice spoke out of the fringe of alder bushes,—
"Beloved, is that thou?"