"In thine own chamber?" He looked at her, with bewildered eyes.
"Here—here, in thine own chamber, Mora?"
The mother in her thrilled with tenderness, as she bent and looked into those bewildered eyes. For once, she felt older than he, and wiser. The sense of inexperience fell from her. For very joy she laughed as she made answer.
"Dear Heart," she said, "I could scarce come home unless I had a chamber to which to come! Martin shewed me which had been thy mother's, and daily in thine absence he and I rode over, and others with us, bringing all things needful, thus making it ready, against thy return."
"Ready?" he said. "Against my return?"
She laid her lips upon his hair.
"I hope it will please thee, my lord," she said. "Come and see."
She made for to rise, but with masterful hands he held her down. His great strength must have some outlet, lest it should overmaster the gentleness of his love. Also, perhaps, the primitive instincts of wild warrior forefathers arose, of a sudden, within him.
"I must carry thee," he said. "Not a step thither shalt thou walk. Thine own feet brought thee to the crypt; others bore thee thence. Thy palfrey carried thee home; thy palfrey bore thee here. But to our chamber, my wife, I carry thee, alone."
She would sooner have gone on her own feet; but her joy this day, was to give him all he wished, and as he wished it.
As he bent above her, she slipped her arms around his neck. "Then carry me, dear Heart," she said, "but do not let me fall."