“But not in the way you propose, father,” Aveline rejoined.  “Heaven will assuredly give you both satisfaction for the wrongs you have endured; but it must choose its own means of doing so, and its own time.”

“It hath chosen the means, and the time is coming quickly,” cried the Puritan, his eye again kindling with fanatical light. “’The Lord will cut off from Israel head and tail.’”

“These things are riddles to me,” observed Jocelyn, who had listened to what was passing with great uneasiness.  “I would solicit an explanation?”

“You shall have it, my son,” Hugh Calveley replied.  “But not now.  My hour for solitary prayer and self-communion is come, and I must withdraw to my chamber.  Go forth into the garden, Jocelyn—­and do thou attend him, Aveline.  I will join you when my devotions are ended.”

So saying he quitted the room, while the youthful pair went forth as enjoined.

CHAPTER XVIII.

How the promise was cancelled.

It was a large garden, once fairly laid out and planted, but now sadly neglected.  The broad terrace walk was overgrown with weeds; the stone steps and the carved balusters were broken in places, and covered with moss; the once smooth lawn was unconscious of the scythe; the parterres had lost their quaint devices; and the knots of flowers—­tre-foil, cinque-foil, diamond, and cross-bow—­were no longer distinguishable in their original shapes.  The labyrinths of the maze were inextricably tangled, and the long green alleys wanted clearing out.

But all this neglect passed unnoticed by Jocelyn, so completely was he engrossed by the fair creature at his side.  Even the noise of the May Games, which, temporarily interrupted by Hugh Calveley, had recommenced with greater vigour than ever—­the ringing of the church bells, the shouts of the crowd, and the sounds of the merry minstrelsy, scarcely reached his ear.  For the first time he experienced those delicious sensations which new-born love excites within the breast; and the enchantment operated upon him so rapidly and so strongly, that he was overpowered by its spell almost before aware of it.  It seemed that he had never really lived till this moment; never, at least, comprehended the bliss afforded by existence in the companionship of a being able to awaken the transports he now experienced.  A new world seemed suddenly opened to him, full of love, hope, sunshine, of which he and Aveline were the sole inhabitants.  Hitherto his life had been devoid of any great emotion.  The one feeling latterly pervading it had been a sense of deep wrong, coupled with the thirst of vengeance.  No tenderer influence had softened his almost rugged nature; and his breast continued arid as the desert.  Now the rock had been stricken, and the living waters gushed forth abundantly.  Not that in Norfolk, and even in the remote part of the county where his life had been passed, female beauty was rare.