light to see by, Eve ate and drank
heartily, for she needed food. Then having prayed according to her
custom, she laid herself down and slept as a child sleeps, for she was
very strong of will and one who had always taught herself to make the
best of evil fortune. When she woke the daws were cawing around the
tower and the sun shone through the loopholes. She rose refreshed and
ate the remainder of her bread, then combed her hair and dressed herself
as best she could.

Two or three hours later the door was opened and her father entered.
Glancing at him she saw that little sleep had visited him that night,
for he looked old and very weary, so weary that she motioned to him
to sit upon the stool. This he did, breathing heavily and muttering
something about the steepness of the tower stairs. Presently he spoke.

"Eve," he said, "is your proud spirit broken yet?"

"No," she answered, "nor ever will be, living or dead! You may kill my
body, but my spirit is me, and that you will never kill. As God gave it
so I will return it to Him again."

He stared at her, with something of wonder and more of admiration in his
look.

"Christ's truth," he said, "how proud I could be of you, if only you'd
let me! I deem your courage comes from your mother, but she never had
your shape and beauty. And now you are the only one left, and you hate
me with all your proud heart, you, the heiress of the Claverings!"

"Whose estate is this," she answered, pointing to the bare stone walls.
"Think you, my father, that such treatment as I have met with at your
hands of late would breed love in the humblest heart? What devil drives
you on to deal with me as you have done?"

"No devil, girl, but a desire for your own good, and," he added with a
burst of truth, "for the greatness of my House after I am gone, which
will be soon. For your old wizard spoke rightly when he said that I
stand near to death."

"Will marrying me to a man I hate be for my good and make your House
great? I tell you, sir, it would kill me and bring the Claverings to
an end. Do you desire also that your broad lands should go to patch a
spendthrift Frenchman's cloak? But what matters your desire seeing that
I'll not do it, who love another man worth a score of him; one, too, who
will sit higher than any Count of Noyon ever stood."

"Pish!" he said. "'Tis but a girl's whim. You speak folly, being young
and headstrong. Now, to have done with all this mummer's talk, will you
s