nd
longer; and then let us all three set forth for Holywood as fast as we
can stir; for these woods, methinks, are full of peril and exceeding
cold."

"But did my Dick make love to you?" asked Joanna, clinging to her
sweetheart's side.

"Nay, fool girl," returned Alicia; "It was I made love to him. I offered
to marry him, indeed; but he bade me go marry with my likes. These were
his words. Nay, that I will say: he is more plain than pleasant. But
now, children, for the sake of sense, set forward. Shall we go once more
over the dingle, or push straight for Holywood?"

"Why," said Dick, "I would like dearly to get upon a horse; for I have
been sore mauled and beaten, one way and another, these last days, and
my poor body is one bruise. But how think ye? If the men, upon the alarm
of the fighting, had fled away, we should have gone about for nothing.
'Tis but some three short miles to Holywood direct; the bell hath not
beat nine; the snow is pretty firm to walk upon, the moon clear; how if
we went even as we are?"

"Agreed," cried Alicia; but Joanna only pressed upon Dick's arm.

Forth, then, they went, through open leafless groves and down snow-clad
alleys, under the white face of the winter moon; Dick and Joanna walking
hand in hand and in a heaven of pleasure; and their light-minded
companion, her own bereavements heartily forgotten, followed a pace or
two behind, now rallying them upon their silence, and now drawing happy
pictures of their future and united lives.

Still, indeed, in the distance of the wood, the riders of Tunstall might
be heard urging their pursuit; and from time to time cries or the clash
of steel announced the shock of enemies. But in these young folk, bred
among the alarms of war, and fresh from such a multiplicity of dangers,
neither fear nor pity could be lightly wakened. Content to find the
sounds still drawing farther and farther away, they gave up their hearts
to the enjoyment of the hour, walking already, as Alicia put it, in a
wedding procession; and neither the rude solitude of the forest, nor the
cold of the freezing night, had any force to shadow or distract their
happiness.

At length, from a rising hill, they looked below them on the dell of
Holywood. The great windows of the forest abbey shone with torch and
candle; its high pinnacles and spires arose very clear and silent, and
the gold rood upon the topmost summit glittered brightly in the moon.
All about it, in the open glad