So said Isoult, kneeling and crying. Whatever else she may have
touched in her who listened, she touched her curiosity. The old woman
dropped the ring to look at the girl. True enough, below her left
breast there was a small red wound, and upon it a drop of fresh blood.
Mrs. Ursula took the wet face between her two chapped hands and
laughed at it, not unkindly.
"My bonny lass," said she, "if this be all thou hast to tell me it
will not stay my son Falve. Here in this forest we think little of the
giving of rings, but much of what should follow it. But thy wedding
stopped at the ringing, from what I can learn. That is no wedding at
all. Doubt not this knight of thine will never return; they never do
return, my lassie. Neither doubt but that Falve will wed thee faster
than any ring can do. And as for thy scratch and crying heart, my
child, trust Falve again to stanch the one and still the other. For
that is a man's way. And now get into bed, child; it grows late."
There was nothing for it but to obey. Her game had been played and had
failed. She got into bed and Ursula followed.
Then as she lay there quaking, crying quietly to herself, her heart's
message went on that bid her trust. Trust! What could she trust? The
thought shaped itself and grew clearer every minute; the answer pealed
in her brain. The token! she recalled her mother's words, the only
words she had spoken on her marriage night. "It shall not fail thee to
whomsoever thou shalt show it."
"Help, Saint Isidore!" she breathed, and sat up in the bed.
This made the old woman very cross.
"Drat the girl," she muttered, "why don't she sleep while she can?"
Isoult leaned over her and put the token in her hand. "Look also at
this token, mother, before we sleep," she said.
Mrs. Ursula, grumbling and only half awake, took the thing in one hand
and hoisted herself with the other. She sat up, peered at it in the
light of the cresset, dropped it to rub her eyes, fumbled for it
again, and peered again; she whispered prayers to herself and
adjurations, called on Christ and Christ's mother, vehemently crossed
herself many times, scrambled out of bed, and plumped down beside it
on her two knees.
"Mild Mary," she quavered, "mild Mary, that is enough! That I should
live to see this day. Oh, saints in glory! Let us look at it again."
Isoult drooped over the edge of the bed; Ursula looked and was
astounded, she wondered and prayed, she laughed and cried. Isoult grew
frightened.
"Wed her!" cried the old dame in ecstasy. "Wed the Queen of Sheba
next!" Then she grew mighty serious. She got up and dropped a curtesy.