Read Crossing To Paradise for Free Online

tree, right next to the lychgate, there was a little gravestone, a new one, Gatty could see that. It had gathered no moss, and the lettering was young and sharp. Gatty squatted beside it. With her right forefinger she traced the characters, shook her head and sighed.
    Down on her knees Gatty dropped, wet as the grass was, and wet as the grave-soil beneath it. What can I offer God, she thought. What can I offer anyone? She closed her eyes, and after a while she began to intone in a low, steady voice:
“ Jesus of Ewloe,
spring in my heart
and speak in my head.
    Little Jesus,
sharpen my eyes
and sing in my ears.
    Jesus of everywhere,
dance in my heart
and teach my thick tongue. ”
    Where such words came from, Gatty had no idea, though sometimes, when she sang, she was aware of how her mother had sung to her when she was a baby.
    Then Nest and Snout came in through the lych-gate and Gatty scrambled to her feet.
    â€œWhatever are you doing?” Nest demanded.
    â€œThis grave—whose is it?” asked Gatty.
    â€œGriffith.”
    â€œLady Gwyneth told me about him dying,” said Gatty. “What was it?”
    Nest shrugged. “Very sudden.”
    â€œShe tends his grave every day,” Snout said thickly. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Hew. He’s five now.”
    â€œShe loved him so, she almost devoured him,” said Nest. “She didn’t even give him to a wet nurse, and she always brought him to sleep in her own bed.”
    â€œWhen Griffith died, Lady Gwyneth stopped eating,” Snout told Gatty. “I made her favorite delicacies, but she wouldn’t touch them.”
    â€œWorse!” said Nest. “She wouldn’t get out of bed. For weeks she didn’t even wash. Still, that would scarcely bother you, would it?”
    â€œShe looked like a moldy skeleton,” said Snout.
    â€œWhat about her husband?” asked Gatty.
    â€œSir Robert,” said Snout. “He died three months before Griffith. He was fifty, twice as old as Lady Gwyneth, and had scabs and weeping sores all over his body.”
    â€œSo she’s a widow,” Gatty said, almost to herself. “She’s all alone.”
    â€œAnd she owns Ewloe,” Snout added, “every stick and stone of it.”
    â€œI didn’t know a woman could own a castle and land and that,” said Gatty.
    â€œHer overlord is the Earl of Chester,” Nest told Gatty. “She has to swear fealty to him, even though he’s English.”
    â€œI’m English,” said Gatty.
    Nest made a face as if she’d just eaten something rotten. “Austin saved her,” she said. “He told Lady Gwyneth it was only natural to grieve for the death of her baby, but not to go on as if there’s no life after this life. He said she should make Ewloe shine, shine in memory of Griffith, and shine to the glory of God.”
    â€œThat’s when it all began,” said Snout.
    â€œIt is,” Nest agreed. “You know those tapestries in the hall? Lady Gwyneth shipped them from Arras.”
    â€œWhat’s Arras?” asked Gatty.
    â€œA town in France. Harpists and bards came to Ewloe. And a schoolman from Oxford. And an astronomer who could read the map of the skies…”
    â€œYou mean the stars and that?” Gatty asked.
    â€œHe came from Malvern,” said Nest. “And he said that compared to what the Saracens know, the English and Welsh are like babbling babies.”
    Snout sucked his cheeks. “You say it was Austin saved Lady Gwyneth,” he told Nest, “but I say it was you. Partly you. The way you cut and sewed dresses for her, and braided her hair, and got her to work with you on that tapestry. For season after season, while she waited for permissions to go on this pilgrimage, you were at her side and helped her.”
    Nest gave Snout a half-curtsy.
    â€œYes, it was Nest brought Lady Gwyneth back to life,”