The Forest Lovers - Page 24/206

The girl's eyes grew larger and darker. "Are they going to hang me?"

she asked.

"Are you not a witch?"

"It is said."

"Your mother Mald is a witch--eh?"

"Yes, she is a witch."

"And are not you? You know Deerleap--eh?"

"It is said that I do."

"And you know what must be done to witches."

"They will hang me, Dom Galors! Will they hang me by Cutlaw and

Rogerson?"

"There is room for you there."

"What can they prove?"

"Pshaw! Is proof needed? Are you not a baggage?"

"I know not."

"A wanton?"

"Ah, you should know that!"

"If it depended upon me, Isoult, I could save you. But the Abbot means

to make an example and set a terror up before the evil-doers in this

walk of Morgraunt. What am I before the Abbot, or what is my love for

you to be brought to his ears? It is doom more certain still, my

dear."

"Then I shall be hanged."

"Listen to me now, Isoult. Listen close. No, leave your hands where

they are; they are safer there than elsewhere. So leave them and

listen close. No soul in Malbank but myself and the Lord Abbot knows

of what I have told you now. Me he told this morning. Judge if that

was good news for your lover's ear!"

Isoult shivered and hung her head. Galors went on--"At the risk of

everything a monk should fear, and of everything, by God, that such a

monk as I am should care to win, I contended with my spiritual father.

Spare me the particulars; I got some shrewd knocks over it, but I did

win this much. You are to be hanged to-morrow, Isoult, or noosed in

another way. A ring is to play a part. You shall be bride of the tree

or a man's bride. I won this, and left the Abbot chuckling, for much

as he knows he has not guessed that the goose-girl, the tossed-out

kitchen-girl, the scarecrow haunter of the heath, should be sought in

marriage. But I knew more than he; and now," he said, stooping over

the bent girl,--"and now, Isoult la Desirous, come with me!"

He tried to draw her towards him, but she trembled in his hands so

much that he had to give over. He began his arguments again, reasoned,

entreated, threatened, cajoled; he could not contain himself now,

being so near fruition. The spell of the forest was upon him. "Let

Love be the master," he said, "for there is no gainsaying him, nor can

cloister walls bar his way; but his flamy wings top even these. Ah,

Isoult!" he cried out in his passion; "ah, Isoult la Desirée, come,

lest I die of love and you of the tree."