To which the Little Nun listened as it might be one of God’s angels, bending over the golden bar of Heaven, would listen to the wailing in the Pit. And so soon as he paused she spoke with halting breath.
“Alas, could anything so cruel happen? Ah, no! The peace has held six years—the king believes it firm—and every night and morning I will pray to Our Lady to change your brother’s heart.”
As she said this, her face bloomed again with her hope. But Valgard only bowed his head upon his hands and groaned; for that albeit he had faith in the Virgin, he knew the nature of Ogmund Monks-bane.
Soon after, constraining himself to hardness for her sake, he rose and drew her away and continued to speak with the dulness of one in great pain, schooling her how she must put him from her heart and forget him.
But to that, when she had listened a while with widening eyes, the Little Nun cried out piteously:
“Alas! what then shall I do with my love? It came into being before you called it—it cannot cease at your bidding. Oh, if it be God’s will that we shall have a long life together, then God’s will be done, but make not a thwarted useless thing out of the love which He has permitted me! Let me give it to you. Even though it be too poor to ease you much, yet let me give it! How else shall I find comfort?”
Suddenly, as their eyes met, she stretched out her hands to him with a little sobbing cry that was half piteous and half pitying. And so drew him back, malgre his will, until he had put his arms about her where she sat in the saddle above him, when she gathered his head to her breast and cherished it there, with little soft wordless sounds of comforting.
Thus, for that he was so well-nigh spent with struggling, he leaned a while upon her love. And it heartened him. And he lifted his head, thinking to set burning lips to her sweet mouth.
But even as he thought to do this, something in himself or her checked him, so that he kissed instead her small ministering hands. Wherefore the Little Nun remained unstartled and blessedly trustful, and raising her eyes to the blue heavens of which they seemed so much a part prayed softly to Our Dear Lady to keep true the heart of Ogmund Monks-bane.
The fourth morning after this, the queen’s maiden Adeleve was wedded to Valgard the Hostage. And that day at noon did our benignant king and his housewifely queen make a marriage feast for the young pair that both of them held dear. A marriage feast, well-a-way!