Speak you," said Peter humbly.
"Aye, for truly you are a master of silence, as I should know, if any do," replied Margaret, bethinking her of the weary months and years of waiting.

"Well, I will answer for you .-- Father, Peter was right; I am content to marry him, though to do so will be to enter the Order of the Silent Brothers.

Yes, I am content; not for himself, indeed, who has so many faults, but for myself, who chance to love him," and she smiled sweetly enough.
"Do not jest on such matters, Margaret." "Why not, father?
Peter is solemn enough for both of us--look at him.
Let us laugh while we may, for who knows when tears may come ?" "A good saying," answered Castell with a sigh.

"So you two have plighted your troth, and, my children, I am glad of it, for who knows when those tears of which Margaret spoke may come, and then you can wipe away each other's?
Take now her hand, Peter, and swear by the Rood, that symbol which you worship"-- here Peter glanced at him, but he went on--"swear, both of you that come what may, together or separate, through good report or evil report, through poverty or wealth, through peace or persecutions, through temptation or through blood, through every good or ill that can befall you in this world of bittersweet, you will remain faithful to your troth until you be wed, and after you are wed, faithful to each other till death do part you." These words he spoke to them in a voice that was earnest almost to passion, searching their faces the while with his quick eyes as though he would read their very hearts.

His mood crept from him to them; once again they felt something of that fear which had fallen on them in the garden when they passed into the shadow of the Spaniard.