"Beware, Sir Patrick," said the abbot, "we cannot permit such transports here, and in view of the passers, too! Retire into the north aisle, while I betake me to the south, for I have still some leaves of my daily office to read; and when that is over, I shall rejoin you. Be secret—be wary!"
With this advice, the politic old Churchman left Gray and Murielle to themselves, being perfectly well aware that his presence, could in no way enhance the joy of this sudden interview.
The quiet tenderness of Murielle moderated the ardor of Gray; both trembled with the depth of their emotions, and the girl's eyes were full of tears of affection and fear, for she felt as if Gray had been restored to her from the tomb, and sometime passed before she could speak with coherence.
"Ah, that I should miss your presence here for a moment," said Gray, "but I was watching the passers in the streets."
"While I watched you from the church!"
"And how did you enter it—I have been an hour at the porch."
"We came by the postern, which adjoins the great garden of the Dyck Graf's mansion."
"Where you reside?"
"Yes."
"And the earl, too?"