He strapped on the saddle-bags, helped her to mount, and led her horse out of the wood. There was not a soul to be seen on the road, and still he seemed loth to leave her.
“I will go with you a little way.”
She looked at him dearly.
“No, I am brave. And there is no one here to see us part, and to gape and wonder concerning us.”
“True, oh queen! And so, farewell.”
He tossed his cap at her, laughed, and went off whistling.
And a sudden strange sadness assailed her. She held her horse in and sat there watching him. He was so gallant, so debonair, this brother of hers.
And she would never set eyes on him again. No prophetic instinct could tell her that.
Chapter X
Brother Geraint made his way through the dusk to Widow Greensleeve’s house at Cherry Acre. It was a warm, still night, and the scent of the white thorn blossom in the hedges hung heavy on the air.