"
"It is possible, lord; all things are possible, but I think not. I think
that he only draws the bow at a hazard, which is more than Grey Dick
does," he added with a chuckle. "These brute English hate us French,
whom they know to be their masters in all that makes a man, and traitor
to their fool king is the least of the words they throw at us."
"Well, priest, my mother was English, as my wife will be. Therefore stay
your tongue on that matter and tell me how I am to make her my wife,"
answered Acour haughtily.
The chaplain cringed and bowed, rubbing his thin hands together.
"I thought you wished to speak of the English, my lord, otherwise I
should not have ventured--but as to the lady Eve, something comes to me.
Why does she stay in sanctuary who herself has committed no crime? Is it
not, such is her madness, because she would be out of reach of you and
your endearments? Now if she believed you gone far enough away, let us
say to France, and knew that her father lay ill, why then----" and he
paused.
"You mean that she might come out of sanctuary of her own accord?"
"Yes, lord, and we might set a springe to catch this bird so rare and
shy, and though she'd flutter, flutter, flutter, and peck, peck, peck,
what could she do when you smoothed her plumage with your loving hand,
and a priest was waiting to say the word that should cause her to forget
her doubts and that merchant bumpkin?"
"Ah, Nicholas, you have a good wit, and if all goes well you shall
certainly be an abbot.
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