The Dane then drew from his finger a ring, and handed it to her, and, truly enough, it was De Guader's signet.
Emma's fingers trembled so violently that she could scarce read the superscripture, endorsed with a clerkly scroll,—
'To the fair hands of Emma de Guader,
Castellan of our Castell of Blauncheflour in Norowic.'
She drew the little miséricorde at her girdle and severed the silk.
'Bid the chaplain hither,' she said, for in truth she had little learning, and her literary attainments did not extend far beyond the reading of her own name; notwithstanding which, her eyes questioned eagerly the fairly illumined page before her, which was the work of the monk who has been mentioned as sitting by the hearth of Ealdred Godwinsson in his Fenland refuge, for the earl's clerkly skill was little greater than that of his wife.
Impatiently she awaited the coming of the chaplain, and, when he came, thrust the cherished parchment into his hand, and followed his reading, word by word, with hungry avidity.
'Fair and dear Lady and Countess,' said the missive, 'ill news has thy unfortunate knight wherewith to vex thine heart. The battle went against me. By little less than a miracle was my life, dear for thy sweet sake, preserved to me. A long story which some day I yet hope to relate to thee. I am sore wounded, but not dangerously'—
'The holy saints be praised!' ejaculated Sir Hoël fervently.
'Ay!—the holy saints be praised!, echoed Sir Alain, with somewhat halting zeal, for this resuscitated earl put an end to all his schemes.