“There was a fine coil when Sir Richard brought the news, and I was rated more soundly than I have been since I was a little lad and lost my father’s best falcon through letting it loose when the falconer was not by to whistle it back.  There has been a mighty talking and arguing as to whether such wedlock as ours be lawful, and no man seems rightly to know.  That we must be wed again in more orderly fashion all agree, if we are to live together as man and wife; but none will dare to say that we may break the pledge we gave each to the other that day.  My father talked at first of moving some high court to set us free; but my mother shook her head and said that vows so solemnly spoken before God and in His name might never rightly be annulled by man.  She was grieved and as angered as she knows how to be at our hot-headed rashness, and spoke to me words which hurt me more than my father’s ratings.  Yet she holds steadfastly to this—­that we are betrothed too firmly to be parted; and what she holds she can generally make my father hold, for he thinks much of her piety and true discernment.”

“So that thou art out of thy trouble for the nonce?”

Culverhouse laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

“I say not that, for they tell us it will be many years ere we can hope to be wed again in due form; and waiting is weary work.”

“And why should you wait?”

Culverhouse laughed again.

“That is soon answered.  My father has always told me that I must wed a lady of wealth if I am to wed young.  Our estates are encumbered.  We have more state to keep up than we well know how to manage.  We have had troubles and losses even as the Trevlyns have.  I have known this well.  I cannot complain of my father.  Nevertheless I chose my Kate without any dowry before all the world beside, and I am prepared to abide by my choice.  But we shall have to wait; we shall have to possess our souls in patience.  They all tell us that; and I gainsay them not.  I am young.  I have friends in high places.  I will win a name for myself, and a fortune too, ere my head be gray.  Alas for the old days of chivalry, when men might ride forth to fame and glory, and win both that and wealth in a few short years!  Those bright days are gone for ever.  Still methinks I will conquer fate yet!”

Culverhouse looked as though fitted indeed for some career of chivalrous daring.  He and Cuthbert would gladly have ridden forth together upon some knightly quest; but the days for such things had gone by, as both recognized with a sigh.  Still there was brightness in Cuthbert’s eyes as he said: 

“Mistress Kate will spend her Christmas at the Cross Way House, and I trow that others of the Trevlyns will do the like.  If thou wilt be one of the party there upon that day, I doubt not that there will be a welcome for thee; and perchance thou wilt find then that thy nuptials need not be so long postponed.  A golden key may be found which will unlock many doors.”