The principle of rib-vaulting was that a ceiling was made of a few strong ribs, with the gaps between the ribs filled in with light material. They had applied that principle to the whole building. The wall of the chancel consisted of a few strong piers joined by windows. The arcade separating the chancel from its side aisles was not a wall but a row of piers joined by pointed arches, leaving wide spaces through which the light from the windows could fall into the middle of the church. The aisle itself was divided in two by a row of thin columns.

Pointed arches and rib-vaulting had been combined here, as they had in the narthex, but it was now clear that the narthex had been a cautious trial for the new technology. By comparison with this, the narthex was musclebound, its ribs and moldings too heavy, its arches too small. Here everything was thin, light; delicate and airy. The simple roll moldings were all narrow and the colonettes were long and thin.

It would have looked too fragile to stay upright, except that the ribs showed so clearly how the weight of the building was being carried by the piers and columns. Here was a visible demonstration that a big building did not need thick walls with tiny windows and massive piers. Provided the weight was distributed precisely on a load-bearing skeleton, the rest of the building could be light stonework, glass, or empty space. Jack was spellbound. It was almost like falling in love. Euclid had been a revelation, but this was more than a revelation, for it was beautiful too. He had had visions of a church like this, and now he was actually looking at it, touching it, standing under its sky-high vault.

He walked around the curved east end in a daze, staring at the vaulting of the double aisle. The ribs arched over his head like branches in a forest of perfect stone trees. Here, as in the narthex, the filling between the ceiling ribs was cut stone jointed with mortar, instead of the easier, but heavier, rubble-and-mortar. The outer wall of the aisle had pairs of big windows with pointed tops to match the pointed arches. The revolutionary architecture was perfectly complemented by the colored windows. Jack had never seen colored glass in England, but he had come across several examples in France: however, in the small windows of an old-style church it could not achieve its full potential. Here, the effect of the morning sun pouring through the rich many-colored windows was more than beautiful, it was spellbinding.

Because the church was round-ended, the side aisles curved around to meet at the east end, forming a semicircular ambulatory or walkway. Jack walked all the way around the half circle, then turned and came back, still marveling. He returned to his starting point.

There he saw a woman.

He recognized her.

She smiled.

His heart stood still.

Aliena shaded her eyes. The sunlight coming through the windows at the east end of the church dazzled her. Like a vision, a figure walked toward her out of the blaze of colored sunshine. He looked as if his hair was on fire. He came closer. It was Jack.

Aliena felt faint.

He came to her and stood in front of her. He was thin, terribly thin, but his eyes shone with an intensity of emotion. They stared at one another in silence for a moment.

When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Is it really you?”

“Yes,” she said. Her voice came out in a whisper. “Yes, Jack. It’s really me.”

The tension was too much, and she began to cry. He put his arms around her and hugged her, with the baby in her arms between them, and patted her back, saying “There, there,” as if she were a child. She leaned against him, breathing his familiar dusty smell, hearing his dear voice as he soothed her, letting her tears fall on his bony shoulder.

Eventually he looked at her face and said: “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” she said.

“Looking for me?” he said incredulously. “Then… how did you find me?”

She wiped her eyes and sniffed. “I followed you.”

“How?”

“I asked people if they had seen you. Masons, mostly, but some monks and lodging-house keepers.”

His eyes widened. “You mean-you’ve been to Spain?”

She nodded. “Compostela, then Salamanca, then Toledo.”

“How long have you been traveling?”

“Three fourths of a year.”

“But why?”

“Because I love you.”

He seemed overwhelmed. His eyes filled with tears. He whispered: “I love you, too.”

“Do you? Do you, still?”

“Oh, yes.”

She could tell he meant it. She tilted her face up. He leaned forward, over the baby, and kissed her softly. The touch of his mouth on hers made her feel dizzy.

The baby cried.

She broke the kiss and rocked him a little, and he quieted.

Jack said: “What’s the baby called?”

“I haven’t named him yet.”

“Why not? He must be a year old!”

“I wanted to consult you.”

“Me?” Jack frowned. “What about Alfred? It’s up to the father…” He tailed off. “Why… is he… is he mine?”

“Look at him,” she said.

Jack looked. “Red hair… It must be a year and three quarters since…”

Aliena nodded.

“Good God,” Jack said. He seemed awestruck. “My son.” He swallowed hard.

She watched his face anxiously as he tried to take in the news. Would he see this as the termination of his youth and freedom? His expression became solemn. Normally a man had nine months to get used to the idea of being a father. Jack had to do it all at once. He looked again at the baby, and at last he smiled. “Our son,” he said. “I’m so glad.”

Aliena sighed happily. Everything was all right at last.

Another thought struck Jack. “What about Alfred? Does he know…?”

“Of course. He only had to look at the child. Besides…” She felt embarrassed. “Besides, your mother cursed the marriage, and Alfred was never able to, you know, do anything.”

Jack laughed harshly. “There’s true justice,” he said.

Aliena did not like the relish with which he said it. “It was very hard for me,” she said, in a tone of mild reproof.

His face changed quickly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “What did Alfred do?”

“When he saw the baby, he threw me out.”

Jack looked angry. “Did he hurt you?”

“No.”

“He’s a pig, all the same.”

“I’m glad he threw us out. It was because of that that I came looking for you. And now I’ve found you. I’m so happy I don’t know what to do.”

“You were very brave,” Jack said. “I still can’t take it in. You followed me all that way!”

“I’d do it all again,” she said fervently.

He kissed her again. A voice said in French: “If you insist on behaving lewdly in church, please remain in the nave.”

It was a young monk. Jack said: “I’m sorry, Father.” He took Aliena’s arm. They went down the steps and across the south transept. Jack said: “I was a monk for a while-I know how hard it is for them to look at happy lovers kissing.”

Happy lovers, Aliena thought. That’s what we are.

They walked the length of the church and stepped out into the busy market square. Aliena could hardly believe that she was standing in the sunshine with Jack by her side. It was almost too much happiness to bear.

“Well,” he said, “what shall we do?”

“I don’t know,” she said, smiling.

“Let’s get a loaf of bread and a flask of wine, and ride out into the fields to eat our dinner.”

“It sounds like paradise.”

They went to the baker and the vintner, and then they got a wedge of cheese from a dairywoman in the marketplace. In no time at all they were riding out of the village into the fields. Aliena had to keep looking at Jack to make sure he really was there, riding along beside her, breathing and smiling.

He said: “How is Alfred managing the building site?”

“Oh! I haven’t told you!” Aliena had forgotten how long he had been away. “There was a terrible disaster. The roof fell in.”