"Are you Prosper?" she asked.
"Yes, I am indeed. Did she speak to you about me?"
"Often."
"Is she—ah, Lord of Hosts! she is not here?"
"No, not now. She was here. Come with me. But you must leave your horse and sword behind you."
Prosper obeyed her without a thought. Mellifont took his hand and led him to the hollow under the oak. Belvisée was there, dumbly nursing her side, which a stooping hind was licking when the pair came up. Prosper received the red robe and the sequins from her hands, and in time pieced the story together. It cut him to the soul.
"Take me to the place where the dogs got her," he said in a whisper. Belvisée and Mellifont led him there. Once more, then, he wasted his eyes on crushed herbage, black fern, and stained earth; again loathed himself very heartily for what he had not done; but in time understood what he had done. He turned deliberately to the sisters. "Belvisée and Mellifont, listen to what I shall tell you. There is no strength like a woman's, and no blindness like that of a man. For the woman is strong because she is blind and cannot see the man she loves as he is; therefore she makes him in her own glorious image. But the man is blind because he is strong, and because he seeth himself so glorious that he can abide no other near him save as a servant. In that he doth deadly sin to Love, because the food of Love is service, and he that serves not Love starves him. But the woman feedeth him with her own milk; so Love is with her till she dies. I, by the mercy of God, have learned what Love is, and can feed him with service. And Isoult la Desirous has taught me, who is now Isoult la Desirée."
Prosper ceased. Mellifont was crying on Belvisée's shoulder. The latter said—
"Prosper, if all men were like thee, we might leave the forest and dwell with them."
"Come with me," he said, "and I will see you safely bestowed."