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Chapter 11
Butstillhepersistedinwaitingatmyshoulder.
“Presently,”Isaid.“PresentlyIshallattendtoyou.”
ThenspokePhilippa,inallthedaringspiritandtheironofher.
“Satisfythegentleman’sdesire,Sainte-Maure.Attendtohimnow.Andgoodfortunegowithyou.”Shepausedtobeckontoherheruncle,JeandeJoinville,whowaspassing—uncleonhermother’sside,ofthedeJoinvillesofAnjou.“Goodfortunegowithyou,”sherepeated,andthenleanedtomesothatshecouldwhisper:“Andmyheartgoeswithyou,Sainte-Maure.Donotbelong.Ishallawaityouinthebighall.”
Iwasintheseventhheaven.Itrodonair.Itwasthefirstfrankadmittanceofherlove.AndwithsuchbenedictionIwasmadesostrongthatIknewIcouldkillascoreofFortinisandsnapmyfingersatascoreofgrayoldmeninRome.
JeandeJoinvilleborePhilippaawayinthepress,andFortiniandIsettledourarrangementsinatrice.Weseparated—hetofindafriendorso,andItofindafriendorso,andalltomeetattheappointedplacebeyondthefish-pond.
FirstIfoundRobertLanfranc,and,next,HenryBohemond.ButbeforeIfoundthemIencounteredawindlestrawwhichshowedwhichwayblewthewindandgavepromiseofaverygale.
