So saying, he strode away, leaving De Montfort beside himself with rage and fear.
The same evening, as he and Alice sat together, he said,—
"Alice, I told you some time ago that I had betrothed you to Baron Vigneau, and I told you some other matters connected therewith, which I trust you have not forgotten. He has been claiming the fulfilment of my promise, and becomes very wroth and threatening. I trust you are prepared now to accept him at once."
"I cannot say that I am, father; the acquaintance I had with him in Normandy before the wars caused me to form but a poor opinion of him. I find that the life he has been leading since the wars began has brutalised him. His sottish habits, also, have become most outrageous. If you wish me to marry, let me make my choice. Or, better still, let me stay with you in singleness. You need some one to keep house for you, I'm sure."
"Alice, I told you I had betrothed you to Vigneau, which is a matter binding upon my honour; and 'tis a debt you must discharge. The Baron is not worse than many others whose life has been cast in these troublous times. He is also famous at the joust; his deeds of arms, also, and his personal prowess, are known throughout the land. Pray what would you have in a husband?"
"Father, I have no feelings but of abhorrence for him. If I may, I would very much prefer retiring to a convent, as I have said before, to spending my life with one so besotted and utterly lost to human feeling. If this will relieve you of your bond, pray give me permission, and I will prefer no other request."
"Alice, it does not suit me that you should retire to a convent, or do anything but obey me. Let me tell you, once for all, these mock heroics, these school-girl sentiments and bookish whims, cannot be tolerated. Your mother was betrothed to me by her parents, who never thought of asking her consent. I tell you once for all, this marriage shall be consummated this day three months. So let this suffice."
Alice retired to her room well-nigh heart-broken at her father's harshness and the hateful prospect of a union with Vigneau. She laid her face in her hands and sobbed most distressingly, defying Jeannette's utmost efforts to console her.
"What shall I do, Jeannette? I shall never wed Vigneau! I shall be sweetly sleeping in that still pool beneath the hazel trees, where we met the Saxon the other day, on the morning that Vigneau claims me for his bride."
"Hush, my lady! don't say that. Let us go again in the morning. Perhaps we may meet those Saxons again, and they will advise us what to do."