So that I saw him not again that night;
And in the morning back to Fredegonde
Returned the messenger, but Merow went
Alone, and brooded much in solitude,
Nor heeded me, nor sought to speak with me,
As he was wont to on the least pretence.
“One morning to my room there came a page
Of Merow’s, who, when I would talk to him
At our chance meetings, blushed and hung his head,
But, when I heeded not his presence, gazed