Purple eBooks

"Betake thyself before I inform Lord Cedric of thy presence!" And
she rapped smartly her knife-handle upon the table. "Betake thyself,
begone!" He did not stir nor find breath until she stood forth from
the table and he saw her beauteous being from head to dainty toe of
convent sandal. Then he found voice, and in broad Scotch begged her
clemency, advancing toward her the while and almost kneeling in his
humility.
"If I did not know the queen--"
"'Tis presuming for thee to speak of knowing her; thou dishonourest
the noble plaid thou wearest. Begone from me, sir, instantly. Begone,
I say!"
"Nay, I shall not begone. Tell me who thou art, I know thee not!"
"Tell thee? Nay, 'twould displease my lord if he knew I held converse
with thee thus. He would no doubt send thee from the castle."
"But who is thy lord, pray?"
"Lord Cedric of Crandlemar!"
"Ah, ah,--but it does not displease him. Lord Cedric says thou shalt
talk to him the balance of his days." The maid shrunk further from him
in sheer loathing.


Pages:
14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38