author - "Marjorie Bowen"
eaver and entered the cathedral, followed softly by his companion. For a moment they stood motionless within the door, which slipped silently into place behind them.The air was oppressive with the powerful perfume of strong incense, and yet even more bitterly cold than the outer night; the light was dim, flickering, rich, and luxurious, and came wholly from hanging lamps of yellow, blue, and red glass. In what appeared the extreme distance, the altar sparkled in the gleam of two huge candles of
r of Courtrai. "I have come here for that."Dirk slightly smiled. "Should I know more than you?" The Margrave's son flushed. "What you do know?--tell me." Dirk's smile deepened. "She was one Ursula, daughter of the Lord of Rooselaare, she was sent to the convent of the White Sisters in this town." "So you know it all," said Balthasar. "Well, what else?" "What else? I must tell you a familiar tale." "Certes, more so to you
eaver and entered the cathedral, followed softly by his companion. For a moment they stood motionless within the door, which slipped silently into place behind them.The air was oppressive with the powerful perfume of strong incense, and yet even more bitterly cold than the outer night; the light was dim, flickering, rich, and luxurious, and came wholly from hanging lamps of yellow, blue, and red glass. In what appeared the extreme distance, the altar sparkled in the gleam of two huge candles of
r of Courtrai. "I have come here for that."Dirk slightly smiled. "Should I know more than you?" The Margrave's son flushed. "What you do know?--tell me." Dirk's smile deepened. "She was one Ursula, daughter of the Lord of Rooselaare, she was sent to the convent of the White Sisters in this town." "So you know it all," said Balthasar. "Well, what else?" "What else? I must tell you a familiar tale." "Certes, more so to you