"Cheer thee, my child!" the Abbess cried; "they dare not tear thee from my care, to ride alone among soldiers."
"Nay, nay, holy mother," interrupted Fitz-Eustace, "the lovely lady, while in Scotland, will be the immediate ward of Lady Angus Douglas, and when she rides to England, female attendance will be provided befitting the heir of Gloster. My Lord Marmion will not address Lady Clare by word or look."
He blushed as he spoke, but truth and honor were painted in his face, and the maiden's fear was relieved. The Abbess entreated, threatened, wept, prayed to saint and to martyr, then called upon the Prioress for aid. The grave Cistercian replied:
"The King and Douglas shall be obeyed. Dream not that harm can come to woman, however helpless, who falls to the care of Douglas of Tantallon Hall."
The Abbess, seeing strife was vain, assumed her wonted state, composed her veil, raised her head, and began again,—but Blount now broke in:
"'Fitz-Eustace, we must march our band;
St. Anton fire thee! wilt thou stand
All day, with bonnet in thy hand,
To hear the lady preach?
By this good light! if thus we stay,
Lord Marmion, for our fond delay,
Will sharper sermon teach.
Come, don thy cap, and mount thy horse;
The dame must patience take perforce."
"Dear, holy Abbess," said Clare, "we must submit to the separation for the present,
"'But let this barbarous lord despair
His purposed aim to win;
Let him take living, land, and life;
But to be Marmion's wedded wife
In me were deadly sin.'
"Mother, your blessing and your prayers are all I ask. Remember your unhappy child! If it be the decree of the King that I return not to the sanctuary with thee to dwell, yet one asylum remains—low, silent, and lone, where kings have little power. One victim of Lord Marmion is already there."
Weeping and wailing arose round patient Clare. Eustace hid his tears, and even the rude Blount could scarce bear the sight. Gently the squire took the rein and led the way, striving to cheer the poor fainting girl, by courteous word and deed.