"For thirteen years a woman lived in this dungeon. Under the creeper on
yonder wall you can see the stone slab which was her bed. The floor of
the hall shut her up almost in darkness, and from the hour she stepped
down into this room she saw no human face, heard no human voice."
"You stand too close to the opening, Mistress Lanison. I pray you come
back or take my hand."
Barbara stepped back and stood by the wall, facing him.
"Her story is a sad one, sad and cruel," she went on. "She had a lover,
and an enemy who said he loved her. The lover--a knight of prowess--went
to the wars, and on his return was told that the woman he worshipped was
false. He sought for her from one end of the land to the other, still
believing in her, until by some artifice he was brought to believe in
her unfaithfulness. Life had lost all zest for him, and he came here at
last, to Aylingford Abbey, to seek consolation in a life of religion. It
was the enemy who had contrived to keep the lovers apart, telling the
girl also that the knight in whom she trusted was untrue. How she
discovered the lie I do not know, nor does it matter, but when she did
she sought for him as he had sought for her.
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