CHAPTER XII.
To-day is ours! why do we fear?
To-day is ours! we have it here.
Let's banish business, banish sorrow;
To the gods belongs to-morrow.--Cowley.
I have dreamed
Of bloody turbulence.--Shakspere.
In profound silence will we pass over Sir Osborne's farther entertainment at the abbey; as well as how Longpole contrived to make himself merry, even in the heart of a monastery; together with sundry other circumstances, which might be highly interesting to that class of pains-taking readers who love everything that is particular and orderly, and would fain make an historian not only tell the truth, but the whole truth, even to the colour of his heroine's garters. For such curious points, however, we refer them to the scrupulously exact Vonderbrugius, who expends the greater part of the next chapter upon the description of a flea-hunt, which Longpole got up in his truckle-bed in the monastery; and who describes the various hops of the minute vampire, together with all that Longpole said on the occasion, as well as the running down, the taking, and the manner of the death, with laudable industry and perseverance. But for the sake of that foolish multitude who interest themselves in the fate and adventures of the hero, rather than in the minor details, we will pass over the whole of the next night much in the same manner as Sir Osborne, who, sound asleep, let it fleet by in silence undisturbed.
His horses, however, were scarcely saddled, and his four attendants prepared, the next morning, than he was informed that the Lady Katrine Bulmer was ready to depart; and proceeding on foot to the great gates of the abbey, which fronted the high road, on the other side from that on which he had entered, he found her already mounted on a beautiful Spanish jennet, with her two women and a man, also on horseback. By her side stood the abbot, with whom she had now made her peace, and who, kindly welcoming Sir Osborne, led him to the young lady.
"Sir knight," said he, "I give you a precious charge in this my dead sister's child; and I give her wholly to your charge, with the most perfect confidence, sure that you will guide her kindly and safely to her journey's end. And now, God bless you and speed you, my child!" he continued, turning to the young lady; "and believe me, Kate, there is no one in the wide world more anxious for your happiness than your poor uncle."
"I know it, I know it, dear uncle!" answered the lady; "and though I be whimsical and capricious, do not think your Katrine does not love you too." A bright drop rose in her eye, and crying "Farewell! farewell!" she made her jennet dart forward, to conceal the emotion she could not repress.
The knight sprang on his horse, bade farewell to the abbot, and galloped after Lady Katrine, who drew in her rein for no one, but rode on as fast as her steed would go. However, notwithstanding her jennet's speed, Sir Osborne was soon by her side; but seeing a tear upon her cheek, he made no remark, and turning round, held up his hand for the rest to come up, and busied himself in giving orders for the arrangement of their march, directing the two women, with Lady Katrine's man, and Longpole, to keep immediately behind, while the three attendants given him by the duke concluded the array. The young lady's tears were soon dispersed, and she turned laughing to her women, who came up out of breath with the rapidity of their course.
"Well, Geraldine," she cried, "shall I go on as quick? Should I not make an excellent knight at a just, Sir Osborne? Oh! I could furnish my course with the best of you. I mind me to try the very next justs that are given."
"Where would you find the man," said Sir Osborne, "to point a lance at so fair a breast, unless it be Cupid's shaft?"