"That is a true saying. But the Host is harder to come by. There is a place in Morgraunt, nevertheless, where you may hear Mass and break good bread after. I have been there, but not from here."
"But I have been there too, Prosper, and from here, or near here. I remember. I know the road."
"Come then, lead me, my bride."
She armed her lord, being now entered into her old self, radiant, softly fair, guarded, and demure. He also was the man of her choosing, invincibly lord. They found their beasts near by and were soon on the way, with their pale trophy hidden in a cloth.
Mass was said by the time they reached the yew-tree close, and saw the shrine and image of Saint Lucy of the Eyes. Alice of the Hermitage came out into the open, shading her face against the sun. Prosper she remembered not, but when she saw Isoult she gave a little cry. The two girls were in each other's arms in no time.
"Oh, you!"
"Yes, yes, I have come back. And you know me like this?"
"I would know you anywhere, by what you can never cut off."
"Now you must know my lord," said Isoult with a great heart.
Prosper came up.