Now, as I have said, Adhelmar was cousin to Reinault, and, in
consequence, to Reinault's sister, the Demoiselle Melite; and the latter
Adhelmar loved, at least, as much as a cousin should. That was well
known; and Reinault de Puysange had sworn very heartily that this was a
great pity when he affianced her to Hugues d'Arques. Both Hugues and
Adhelmar had loved Melite since boyhood,--so far their claims ran
equally. But while Adhelmar had busied himself in the acquisition of some
scant fame and a vast number of scars, Hugues had sensibly inherited the
fief of Arques, a snug property with fertile lands and a stout fortress.
How, then, should Reinault hesitate between them?

He did not. For the Chateau d'Arques, you must understand, was builded in
Lower Normandy, on the fringe of the hill-country, just where the
peninsula of Cotentin juts out into the sea; Puysange stood not far
north, among the level lands of Upper Normandy: and these two being the
strongest castles in those parts, what more natural and desirable than
that the families should be united by marriage? Reinault informed his
sister of his decision; she wept a little, but did not refuse to comply.

So Adhelmar, come again to Puysange after five years' absence, found
Melite troth-plighted, fast and safe, to Hugues. Reinault told him.
Adhelmar grumbled and bit his nails in a corner, for a time; then
laughed shortly.

"I have loved Melite," he said. "It may be that I love her still. Hah,
Saint Vulfran! why should I not? Why should a man not love his cousin?"

Adhelmar grinned, while the vicomte twitched his beard and wished
Adhelmar at the devil.