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Updated: May 19, 2025
Hah, Saint Vulfran! why should I not? Why should a man not love his cousin?" Adhelmar grinned, while the vicomte twitched his beard and wished Adhelmar at the devil. But the young knight stuck fast at Puysange, for all that, and he and Melite were much together. Daily they made parties to dance, and to hunt the deer, and to fish, but most often to rehearse songs. For Adhelmar made good songs.
When he had ended, Adhelmar cast aside the lute, and caught up both of Melite's hands, and strained them to his lips. There needed no wizard to read the message in his eyes. Melite sat silent for a moment. Presently, "Ah, cousin, cousin!" she sighed, "I cannot love you as you would have me love.
"You are a fool, Adhelmar," said he, at last, "but you are a brave man, and you love as becomes a chevalier. It is a great pity that a flibbertigibbet wench with a tow-head should be the death of you. For my part, I am the King's vassal; I shall not break faith with him; but you are my guest and my kinsman. For that reason I am going to bed, and I shall sleep very soundly.
She was graceful and of demure countenance. She was well-beloved, and could herself love well, but her heart was changeable " "Cousin Adhelmar," declared Melite, flushing somewhat, for the portrait was like enough, "I think that you tell of a woman, not of a goddess of heathenry."
She would have me me, the King's man, look you! save Hugues at the peril of my seignory! And I protest to you, by the most high and pious Saint Nicolas the Confessor," Reinault swore, "that sooner than see this huckster go unpunished, I would lock Hell's gate on him with my own hands!" For a moment Adhelmar stood with his jaws puffed out, as if in thought, and then he laughed like a wolf.
Is there no way to save you, Adhelmar?" she pleaded, with wide, frightened eyes that were like a child's. "None," said Adhelmar. He took both her hands in his, very tenderly. "Ah, my sweet," said he, "must I, whose grave is already digged, waste breath upon this idle talk of kingdoms and the squabbling men who rule them?
The level sunlight through the open window smote full upon his face, which was very glad. Melite was conscious of her nobility in causing him such delight at the last. "God, God!" cried Adhelmar, and he spread out his arms toward the dear, familiar world that was slowly taking form beneath them, a world now infinitely dear to him; "all, my God, have pity and let me live a little longer!"
By reason of this, when he had ended his reading about the lady of the hollow hill, Sir Adhelmar sighed again, and stared at his companion with hungry eyes, wherein desire strained like a hound at the leash. Said Melite, "Was this Lady Venus, then, exceedingly beautiful?" Adhelmar swore an oath of sufficient magnitude that she was.
Melite sat before the mirror, and braided her hair, and sang to herself in a sweet, low voice, brooding with unfathomable eyes upon her image in the glass, while the October rain beat about Puysange, and Adhelmar rode forth to save Hugues that must else be hanged.
Adhelmar read to her of divers ancient queens and of the love-business wherein each took part, relating the histories of the Lady Heleine and of her sweethearting with Duke Paris, the Emperor of Troy's son, and of the Lady Melior that loved Parthenopex of Blois, and of the Lady Aude, for love of whom Sieur Roland slew the pagan Angoulaffre, and of the Lady Cresseide that betrayed love, and of the Lady Morgaine la Fee, whose Danish lover should yet come from Avalon to save France in her black hour of need.
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