It may be that my soul
guessed.... If it did so, it was frightened and hid its guess."

"I have told you," said the man. "But, ah, what am I more to you now
than on that morn at Penshurst--a stranger! I know not--even you may
love another.... But no, I know that you do not. As I was then, so am I
now, save that I have served the Queen again, and that cloud I spoke of
is overpast. I must go forth to-morrow to seek, to find, to win, to
lose--God He knoweth what! I would go as your knight avowed, your favor
in my helm, your kiss like holy water on my brow. See, I kneel to you
for some sign, some charm to make my voyage good!"

Very slowly the rose-clad maid of honor let fall her gaze from the
evening skies to the man before her; as slowly unclasped her hands so
tightly locked behind her upraised head. Her eyes were wide and filled
with light, her bosom yet rose and fell quickly; in all her mien there
was still wonder, grace supreme, a rich unfolding like the opening of a
flower to the bliss of understanding. Trembling, her hand went down, and
resting on his shoulder, gave him her accolade. She bowed herself
towards him; a knot of rosy velvet, loosened from her dress, fell upon
the turf beside his knee. Ferne caught up the ribbon, pressed it to his
lips and thrust it in the breast of his doublet. Rising, he took her in
his arms and they kissed. Her breath came pantingly.

"Oh, I envied her!" she cried. "Now I know that I envied while I blessed
her--that unknown Dione!"

"My lady and my only dear!" he said. "Oh, Love is as the sun! So the
sunshine bide, let come what will come!"

"I rest in the sunshine!" she said. "Oh, Love is bliss ... but anguish
too! I see the white sails of your ships."

She shuddered in his arms. "All that go return not. Ah, tell me that you
will come back to me!"

"That will I do," he answered, "an I am a living man. If I die, I shall
but wait for thee. I see no parting of our ways."

One hour was theirs. Bread and wine, and flower and fruit, and meeting
and parting it held for them. Hand in hand they sat upon the grassy
bank, and eyes met eyes, but speech came not often to their lips. They
looked and loved, against the winter storing each moment with sweet
knowledge, honeyed assurance. Brave and fair were they both, gallant
lovers in a gallant time, changing love-looks in a Queen's garden, above
the silver Thames. A tide of amethyst fell the sunset light; the
swallows circled overhead; a sou