But brighter than any jewels were the eyes full of love and tears; and softer than softest velvet, the beautiful hair which, covered her, as with a golden veil.

Standing with his arms around her, it flowed over his hands.

Silent he stood, looking deep into her eyes.
Below they could hear Martin Goodfellow calling to the men-at-arms.
Her lips being free, she spoke.
"Thou wilt come back to me, Hugh," she said.

"The Saracens will not slay thee, will not wound thee, will not touch thee.

My love will ever be around thee, as a silver shield." She flung her strong young arms about him, long and supple, enfolding him closely, even as his enfolded her.
He filled his hands with her soft hair, straining her closer.
"I would I left thee wife, not maid.