Nigel plucked at the priest's gown.
"I pray you, father, have you your book of offices with you?"
"Surely, Nigel, it is ever in my breast."
"Have it ready, father!"
"For what, my son?"
"There are two places you may mark; there is the service of
marriage and there is the prayer for the dying. Go with her,
father, and be ready at my call."
He closed the door behind them and was alone with this ill-matched
couple. They both turned in their chairs to look at him, Edith
with a defiant face, the man with a bitter smile upon his lips and
malignant hatred in his eyes.
"What," said he, "the knight errant still lingers? Have we not
heard of his thirst for glory? What new venture does he see that
he should tarry here?"
Nigel walked to the table.
"There is no glory and little venture," said he; "but I have come
for a purpose and I must do it. I learn from your own lips,
Edith, that you will not leave this man."
"If you have ears you have heard it."
"You are, as you have said, a free woman, and who can gainsay you?
But I have known you, Edith, since we played as boy and girl on
the heather-hills together. I will save you from this man's
cunning and from your own foolish weakness."
"What would you do?"
"There is a priest without. He will marry you now. I will see
you married ere I leave this hall."
"Or else?" sneered the man.
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