Hugo de Lacy hastily recollected himself, and found that it was indeed true, that, until he thought of his union with Eveline, there had appeared no change in his nephew’s health. His silence and confusion did not escape the artful Prelate. He took the hand of the warrior as he stood before him overwhelmed in doubt, lest his preference of the continuance of his own house to the rescue of the Holy Sepulchre should have been punished by the disease which threatened his nephew’s life. “Come,” he said, “noble De Lacy — the judgment provoked by a moment’s presumption may be even yet averted by prayer and penitence. The dial went back at the prayer of the good King Hezekiah — down, down upon thy knees, and doubt not that, with confession, and penance, and absolution, thou mayst yet atone for thy falling away from the cause of Heaven.”
Borne down by the dictates of the religion in which he had been educated, and by the fears lest his delay was punished by his nephew’s indisposition and danger, the Constable sunk on his knees before the Prelate, whom he had shortly before well-nigh braved, confessed, as a sin to be deeply repented of, his purpose of delaying his departure for Palestine, and received, with patience at least, if not with willing acquiescence, the penance inflicted by the Archbishop; which consisted in a prohibition to proceed farther in his proposed wedlock with the Lady Eveline, until he was returned from Palestine, where he was bound by his vow to abide for the term of three years.
“And now, noble De Lacy,” said the Prelate, “once more my best beloved and most honoured friend — is not thy bosom lighter since thou hast thus nobly acquitted thee of thy debt to Heaven, and cleansed thy gallant spirit from those selfish and earthly stains which dimmed its brightness?”
The Constable sighed. “My happiest thoughts at this moment,” he said, “would arise from knowledge that my nephew’s health is amended.”
“Be not discomforted on the score of the noble Damian, your hopeful and valorous kinsman,” said the Archbishop, “for well I trust shortly ye shall hear of his recovery; or that, if it shall please God to remove him to a better world, the passage shall be so easy, and his arrival in yonder haven of bliss so speedy, that it were better for him to have died than to have lived.”
The Constable looked at him, as if to gather from his countenance more certainty of his nephew’s fate than his words seemed to imply; and the Prelate, to escape being farther pressed on the subject on which he was perhaps conscious he had ventured too far, rung a silver bell which stood before him on the table, and commanded the chaplain who entered at the summons, that he should despatch a careful messenger to the lodging of Damian Lacy to bring particular accounts of his health.
“A stranger,” answered the chaplain, “just come from the sick chamber of the noble Damian Lacy, waits here even now to have speech of my Lord Constable.”
“Admit him instantly,” said the Archbishop —“my mind tells me he brings us joyful tidings.— Never knew I such humble penitence,— such willing resignation of natural affections and desires to the doing of Heaven’s service, but it was rewarded with a guerdon either temporal or spiritual.”
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