She sat as close to him as she dared on the trunk of the beech, while
he taught her to say after him, "Pater noster qui es in
coelis", and "Ave Maria gratia plena." In this way they
spent a full hour or more, going over and over the Latin words till
she was as perfect as he. In the stress of the task, which interested
Prosper vastly, their hands met more than once; finally Prosper's
settled down over hers and held it. In time he caught the other.
Isoult's heart beat wildly; she had never been so happy. When she had
all the words pat they knelt down and prayed together, with the best
results.
"Now, child," said Prosper, "you may add what you choose of your own
accord; and be sure that our Lady will hear you. It is a great merit
to be sure of this. The greater the Christian the surer he is. I also
will make my petition. You have no patron?"
"No, lord, I have never heard of such an one."
"I recommend you to Saint Isidore. His name is the nearest to yours
that I can remember. For the rest, he is very strong. Ask, then, what
you will now, my child, and doubt nothing."
Isoult bent her head and shut her eyes for the great essay. What could
she say? What did she want? She was kneeling by Prosper's side, his
hand held hers a happy prisoner.
"Mary, let him take me! Saint Isidore, let him take me--all, all,
all!" This was what she panted to Heaven.
Prosper prayed, "My Lady, I beseech thee a good ending to this
adventure which I have undertaken lightly, it may be, but with an
honest heart. Grant also a good and honourable end to myself, and to
this my wife, who is a Christian without knowing it, and by the help
of thy servants at Gracedieu shall be a better. Per Christum
dominum, etc."
Then he crossed himself, and taught Isoult to do the same, and the
great value of the exercise.
"Now, child," he said, "I have done thee a better turn in teaching
thee to pray and sign thyself meekly and devoutly than ever I did by
wedding thee in the cottage. Thy soul, my dear, thy soul is worth a
hundred times thy pretty person. Saint Bernard, I understand, says,
'My son, think of the worms when thou art disposed to cherish thyself
in a looking-glass.' It is to go far. Saint Bernard was a monk, and
it is a monk's way to think of nastiness; but he was right in the
main. Your soul is the chief part of you. Now to finish: when we are
at Gracedieu thou shalt confess and go to Mass. Then thou wilt be as
good a Christian as I am."