r first flush, all the quicksets
veiled in green. The town was early afoot, for the wedding party of the
Sieur de Gurdun was to come in; and Gurdun belonged to the Archbishop,
and the Archbishop to the Duke. The bride also was reported unwilling,
which added zest to the public appetite for her known beauty. Some knew
for truth that she was the cast-off mistress of a very great man, driven
into Gurdun's arms to dispose of scandal and of her. 'Eh, the minion!'
said certain sniggering old women to whom this was told, 'she'll not
find so soft a lap at Gurdun!' But others said, 'Gurdun is the Duke's,
and will one day be the Duke's son's. What will Sieur Gilles do then
with his straining wife? You cannot keep your hawk on the cadge for
ever--ah, nor hood her for ever!' And so on.

All this points to some public excitement. The town gate was opened full
early, the booths about it did a great trade; at a quarter before seven
Sir Gilles de Gurdun rode in, with his father on his right hand, the
prior of Rouen on his left, and half a dozen of his kindred, fair and
solid men all. They were lightly armed, clothed in soft leather, without
shields or any heavy war-furniture: old Gurdun a squarely built,
red-faced man like his son, but with a bush of white hair all about his
face, and eyebrows like curved snowdrifts; the prior (old Gurdun's
brother's son) with a big nose, long and pendulous; Gilles' brother
Bartholomew, and others whom it would be tedious to mention. Gilles
himself looked well knit for the business in hand; all the old women
agreed that he would make a masterful husband. They stabled their horses
in the inn-yard, and went into the church porch to await the bride's
party.

A trumpet at the gate announced her coming. She rode on a little ambling
horse beside her brother Saint-Pol. With them were the portentous old
lady, Dame Gudule, William des Barres, a very fine French knight,
Nicholas d'Eu, and a young boy called Eloy de Mont-Luc, a cousin of
Jehane's, to bear her train. The gossips at the gate called her a wooden
bride; others said she was like a doll, a big doll; and others that they
read in her eyes the scorn of death. She took no notice of anything or
anybody, but looked straight before her and followed where she was led.
This was straightway into the church by her brother, who had her by the
hand and seemed in a great hurry. The marriage was to be made in the
Lady Chapel, behind the high altar.

Twenty minutes