“In little space God works,” replied Alis devoutly, “and brave effort overcomes all obstacles.”
The following Sunday was the feast of Saint John. It was not a day lost for Guillem, whose lady, in taking the psalter, and whispering: “How?” brushed his finger with her hand. When he was alone again, he sang for joy.
“O God,” he cried, “I swear by the apostles and the prophets, I will give all my rents from France for the building of churches and bridges, if you will but let me see my lady face to face!”
The next time, drawing near with a high heart, he said: “I have found a way!”
“He has already found a way!” exclaimed Alis, gleefully. “Were this the olden time, lady dear, and there came such a friend to me, I should think ’twas Jupiter or some other God, who was in love with me.” Answer him boldly, then: “Take it.”
Flamenca sighed, her colour came and went, she still hesitated. Suddenly Alis sneezed.
“Bless you!” the damsel exclaimed. “Now everything is bound to come out right. We could not have a better omen.”
“God bless you both,” cried Flamenca, deeply touched, “for all the hope and courage you have given me. I will do as you say, though I know not if, in thus accepting his love so readily, I shall not be dishonoured.”
“My Lady,” Alis assured her, “there can be no dishonour, since Love wills it so.”
Thursday was the feast of the passion of the two glorious apostles, who hold the first place after Saint Michael, in Paradise. That day, then, by her answer, Flamenca confirmed Guillem’s every hope. How shall I tell his delight? Now he was sure that Love wished to exalt him above all other lovers, and the next time he said to his lady: “I have taken it.” At the same moment their eyes met and their hearts embraced.