and all unworthy of you; but if great
love may weigh down such defects, then mine may do it. Give me but one
word of hope to take to the wars with me--but one. Ah, you shrink, you
shudder! My wild words have frightened you."

Twice she opened her lips, and twice no sound came from them. At last
she spoke in a hard and measured voice, as one who dare not trust
herself to speak too freely.

"This is over sudden," she said; "it is not so long since the world was
nothing to you. You have changed once; perchance you may change again."

"Cruel!" he cried, "who hath changed me?"

"And then your brother," she continued with a little laugh, disregarding
his question. "Methinks this hath become a family custom amongst the
Edricsons. Nay, I am sorry; I did not mean a jibe. But, indeed, Alleyne,
this hath come suddenly upon me, and I scarce know what to say."

"Say some word of hope, however distant--some kind word that I may
cherish in my heart."

"Nay, Alleyne, it were a cruel kindness, and you have been too good and
true a friend to me that I should use you despitefully. There cannot be
a closer link between us. It is madness to think of it. Were there no
other reasons, it is enough that my father and your brother would both
cry out against it."

"My brother, what has he to do with it? And your father----"

"Come, Alleyne, was it not you who would have me act fairly to all men,
and, certes, to my father amongst them?"

"You say truly," he cried, "you say truly. But you do not reject me,
Maude? You give me some ray of hope? I do not ask pledge or promise. Say
only that I am not hateful to you--that on some happier day I may hear
kinder words from you."

Her eyes softened upon him, and a kind answer was on her lips, when a
hoarse shout, with the clatter of arms and stamping of steeds, rose up
from the bailey below. At the sound her face set her eyes sparkled, and
she stood with flushed cheek and head thrown back--a woman's body, with
a soul of fire.

"My father hath gone down," she cried. "Your place is by his side. Nay,
look not at me, Alleyne. It is no time for dallying. Win my father's
love, and all may follow. It is when the brave soldier hath done his
devoir that he hopes for his reward, Farewell, and may God be with you!"
She held out her white, slim hand to him, but as he bent his lips over
it she whisked away and was gone, leaving in his outstretched hand the
very green veil for which poor Peter Terlake had c