"Mother of Mercies, I thank thee!" cried Gwennola softly, as she bowed her head in thanksgiving. Then, raising a radiant face to Marie, "Now," she cried softly, "cometh the time for brave hearts and wise heads, my Marie, for we must e'en find some mode of taking to monsieur both food and drink, for starvation were little better than the rope, though perchance more honourable."
"Nay, mademoiselle," said Marie earnestly; "you must leave such work to Jobik or to me. Tell me but where the noble knight lies, and, I warrant me, he shall not die of starvation."
But Gwennola shook her head, laughing and blushing as she replied—
"Nay, Marie, be not too ready with thy offers, for, alas! what would the poor Job say"—she dropped her voice to a whisper—"did I bid him go by moonlight to the Chapel of the Brown Friar?"
"Merciful saints!" gasped Marie, paling as she crossed herself. "Nay, lady, you do but jest; it is not possible that a noble knight could find so fearful a resting-place?"
"I say nothing," smiled Gwennola, "because, little curious one, it is better for thee not to be too wise; but verily it is truth that I must to the forest, this night, alone, to take food and wine to this gallant knight."
Marie hesitated; the thought of her young mistress going alone into the dark and lonely forest was terrible, but honest and steadfast as was the girl's devotion, she would a hundred-fold rather have faced death itself than the grim spectre of the haunted chapel.
"I beseech you, sweet mistress," she murmured through rising tears—"nay, I implore you—it is not possible that you, Mademoiselle de Mereac, should go alone, at midnight, through yon forest, for the sake of—the sake of——"
"One whom I love," whispered Gwennola, half shyly, half defiantly. "Nay, maiden, chide me not; the name of Gwennola de Mereac shall lose none of its honour by so daring; and for cruel tongues, see you, my Marie, there will be none. Fie on thee, child! dost not know yet, or hast listened to minstrel lays in vain, that love hath no fear so long as it reigns in purity and virtue?—and therefore such love shall be my amulet, did the Brown Friar himself strive against me."
Again Marie crossed herself, with pale cheeks and frightened eyes, yet silenced by her mistress's glance more than her words, for well she knew by the compression of those small, rosy lips, and the sparkle in those bright eyes, that there was no resisting the proud young will.