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I have had so little home since long, long ago my mother died, and now I am to have one as the maid in the picture has. We will marry the fifth day of May at five o'clock, and will wish you to be there. Don't forget me. "Signor Bero has added a postscript, Mae, which you can translate better than I." And Norman handed her the letter.
The English Gipsy calls a mermaid a pintni; in Hindu it is bint ool buhr, a maid of the sea. Bero in Gipsy is the sea or a ship, but the Rommany had reduced the term to the original bint, by which a girl is known all over the East. "Ya bint' Eeskendereyeh."
Later, there'd be a run on the beach, and a ride on a donkey, and a dance, with delirious music and frolic. And then the moon and quiet, and I would steal away from the crowd, and take a little boat, and float and drift " "Alone?" asked Bero, softly. "Surely, you wouldn't condemn a mountaineer's yellow moustache, or a soldier's spurs and sword, if at heart he was really a child of the sun also?
From above her strange friend leaned over admiringly and once, as Mae looked joyously upwards, clapped her white hands softly together, while beyond her a tall figure stood motionless, Mae had pretended not to see Bero yet, but as the Italian applauded her in this gentle manner, her eyes sought his involuntarily.
She held out weakly her right hand toward Bero; but the left stretched itself involuntarily to Norman. Then the two met in each other's pitiful clasp over her bent head, and with a low wailing cry she fell in a little heap on the sand. When she opened her eyes, they were both bending over her. "Take me home," she gasped to Norman. He glared at the officer. "Go!" he said.
Once, when Desdemona cried out thrillingly, "Othello, il mio marito," Mae looked at Norman involuntarily and caught a half flash of his eye, but he turned back quickly to his companion and Mae's glance wandered on to Bero and rested there as the wild voice cried out again, "il mio marito, il mio marito." So the evening slid on.
"No, no; with the peasants. I am tired and sick of books, and people, and reasons. Shall I give you a day of my Heaven?" Bero smiled and bent slightly forward and rested his hand lightly on the stick of her parasol, which lay between them. "Go on," he said.
Mae felt herself gradually yielding to the spell of this man's soft power. She had grown strangely quiet and passive, and she folded her hands and looked off seawards in a not unhappy way. She seemed to be some one else in a strange dream. "Are you glad I came?" asked Bero, as he jumped into the boat and sat down opposite her. Mae did not reply. She had almost lost the power of speech.
Her great brown eyes have thrown away the mist of sadness for a luminous wedding veil of joy, and she is Lillia, and by her side, erect, proud, glorious, with a lingering ray of light falling on his golden head, is her happy husband, Bero. They stand before the altar of St. Andrea's. "God bless you," says Mae aloud.
When the opinion of each had been heard, George, who was a Brother of our House, but at this time Prior of Briel, was chosen by the greater number of votes. Some indeed chose Bero, Prior of Beverwijc, but all consented humbly and peaceably to the judgment of the greater number; so by common consent Brother George was elected, being a Father most beloved, and himself a lover of the rule.
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