There, while unable, after hours of weeping, to tear herself from
the grave of her father and protector, had she in her utter
desolation been startled by the summons, not only to attend to the
wounded stranger, but to lodge him in the chancel. 'Only this was
wanting,' was the first thought in her desolation, for this had
been her own most cherished resort. Either the bise, or fear of
a haunted spot, or both, had led to the nailing up of boards over
the dividing screen, so that the chancel was entirely concealed
from the church; and no one ever thought of setting foot there till
Eustacie, whose Catholic reverence was indestructible, even when
she was only half sure that it was not worse than a foible, had
stolen down thither, grieved at its utter desolation, and with fond
and careful hands had cleansed it, and amended the ruin so far as
she might. She had no other place where she was sure of being
uninterrupted; and here had been her oratory, where she daily
prayed, and often came to hide her tears and rally her spirits
through that long attendance on her fatherly friend. It had been a
stolen pleasure. Her reverent work there, if once observed, would
have been treated as rank idolatry; and it was with consternation
as well as grief that she found, by the Captain's command, that
this her sanctuary and refuge was to be invaded by strange
soldiers! Little did she think---!
And thus they sat, telling each other all, on the step of the
ruined chancel, among the lights and shadows of the apse. How
unlike to stately Louvre's halls of statuary and cabinets of
porcelain, or the Arcadian groves of Montpipeau! And yet how little
they recked that they were in a beleaguered fortress, in the midst
of ruins, wounded sufferers all around, themselves in hourly
jeopardy. It was enough that they had one another. They were so
supremely happy that their minds unconsciously gathered up those
pale lights and dark fantastic shades as adjuncts of their bliss.