‘Done!’ said Rollo.
‘Done!’ said the dæmon; ‘and here, if I mistake not, is thy castle of Chauchigny.’
Indeed, it was true. The soul, on looking down, perceived the tall towers, the courts, the stables, and the fair gardens of the castle. Although it was past midnight, there was a blaze of light in the banqueting-hall, and a lamp burning in the open window of the Lady Matilda.
‘With whom shall we begin?’ said the dæmon: ‘with the baron or the lady?’
‘With the lady, if you will.’
‘Be it so, her window is open, let us enter.’
So they descended, and entered silently into Matilda’s chamber.
. . . . .
The young lady’s eyes were fixed so intently on a little clock, that it was no wonder that she did not perceive the entrance of her two visitors. Her fair cheek rested on her white arm, and her white arm on the cushion of a great chair, in which she sat pleasantly supported by sweet thoughts and swan’s down; a lute was at her side, and a book of prayers lay under the table (for piety is always modest). Like the amorous Alexander, she sighed and looked (at the clock)—and sighed for ten minutes or more, when she softly breathed the word ‘Edward!’
At this the soul of the baron was wroth. ‘The jade is at her old pranks,’ said he to the devil; and then addressing Matilda: ‘I pray thee, sweet niece, turn thy thoughts for a moment from that villainous page, Edward, and give them to thine affectionate uncle.’