"Accomplished, Hugh?"
The Knight smiled, wearily. "I quote the Bishop, Mora. He will explain that he now reinstates thee as Prioress of the Order. The entire Community will, he says, rejoice; and he himself will be ever at hand to make sure that all is right for thee."
"These plans are well and carefully laid, Hugh."
"They who love thee have seen to that, Mora."
"Who will ride with me from here to Worcester?"
"Martin Goodfellow, and a little band of thine own people. A swifter messenger will go before to warn the Bishop of thy coming."
"And what of thee?" she asked.
"Of me?" repeated the Knight, as if at first the words conveyed to him no meaning. "Oh, I shall go forth, seeking a worthy cause for which to fight; praying God I may soon be counted worthy to fall in battle."
She pressed her clasped hands there where his face had rested.
"And if I find I cannot go back, Hugh? If I decide to stay?"