The girl laughed a strange laugh, and drew back her hand from his.

"Possess me, well--but marry me--no. Honest men and honourable like
Earl Douglas do not wed with the niece of Gilles de Retz. I had
thought my heart within me to be as flint in the chalk, yet now I pray
you on my knees to leave me. Take your thirty lances and your young
brother and ride home. Then, safe in your island fortress of Thrieve,
blot out of your heart all memory that ever you found pleasure in a
creature so miserable as Sybilla de Thouars."

"But," said the young Earl, passionately, "tell me why so, my lady. I
do not understand. What obstacle can there be? You tell me that you
love me, that you are not betrothed. Your kinsman is an honourable
man, a marshal and an ambassador of France, a cousin of the Duke of
Brittany, a reigning sovereign. Moreover, am not I the Douglas? I am
responsible to no man. William Douglas may wed whom he will--king's
daughter or beggar wench. Why should he not join with the honourable
daughter of an honourable house, and the one woman he has ever loved?"

The girl let her velvet cap fall on the ground, and sank her face
between her hands. Her whole body was shaken with emotion.

"Go--go," she cried, starting to her feet and standing before him,
"call out your lances and ride home this night. Never look more upon
the face of such a thing as Sybilla de Thouars. I bid you! I warn you!
I command you! I thought I had been of stone, but now when I see you,
and hear your words, I cannot do that which is laid upon me to do."

William of Douglas smiled.